Tabula Rasa
by VisualIDentificationZeta
Summary: SUMMARY: The way JAG should've gone. Starting with Paraguay, things go in a different direction than in canon. Having resigned from the Navy Harm decides against crawling back on his knees for his old job and instead decides to start afresh somewhere new.
1. Chapter 1

TITLE: Tabula Rasa

AUTHOR: VIDZ

TIMELINE: starts with the taxi stand in Paraguay

DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc of the TV show JAG are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this fic. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. All other characters and plots belong to me.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: I'm taking advantage of artistic freedom in regards to moving the Imes crisis a little further into the future. After 18 months of this fic sitting unfinished on my disk, I've finally found the drive to complete and post it. Yay! :D

Thanks to byrhthelm for his proof-reading.

SUMMARY: Starting with Paraguay, things go in a different direction than in canon. Having resigned from the Navy Harm decides against crawling back to US for his old job and instead decides to start afresh somewhere new.

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"Things are never gonna work out between us."

"Why not?"

"Because we both want to be on top and that's physically and emotionally impossible."

The last piece of the puzzle unfolded... Mac never really knew him, because if she had, she wouldn't have said something as stupid as that. She did what she always had done, projecting her motives and personality onto others, never entertaining the idea that not everyone was like her.

Why had it taken him so long to realize this? His failure to realise that simple act not only hurt himself, but seduced him into hurting so many other, innocent women along the way.

With that knowledge came peace, resignation to the inevitable and determination to make the best of the hand he'd been dealt.

"You're right." Harm said softly, quiet sadness shining from his eyes "We would never work, but not because of us both wanting to be on top. I never wanted a power-struggle, I just wanted to be with you. If you couldn't understand that, it's because I guess you were too busy trying to be on top."

Mac stared at him speechless, in disbelief he was actually saying this. But he wasn't done yet and the finality in his voice chilled her to the bone.

"I loved you once, Mac. I even told you at your engagement party, no matter how much I despised myself for doing that while you were wearing another man's ring." he paused, letting out a deep breath "But now... I don't know the person you turned into these past few years anymore and I can't honestly say I like who you've become."

"Now, wait a minute! You have no right to say that! It's you who needs growing up, not me! You're the one always haring off on some quest or pursuing your latest obssession, while I have to clean up your messes! And, just when did you tell me you loved me at the party?" Mac returned hotly, having regained her composure.

Gently shaking his head Harm dismissed her protests, too tired to fight anymore "You were right when you said the Navy was all I had, I just didn't know it... I thought I had more. I thought _we_ had more. But I was wrong and now... you were right again: now I have nothing."

Looking away from Mac's shocked expression and back over his shoulder, at the path to a new life, he turned to let his eyes rest on her again and, with a finality that shocked her to the core, said calmly.

"I'd wish you happiness, but unfortunately I know you'd just push it away if it found you. What I will say is this: keep your head down around lover-boy because the next time you're strapped to a table, about to be tortured after getting involved in another of his ops, there may not be anyone around to save your six. So long, Marine."

With that Harmon Rabb Jr. turned around and walked out of Mac's life, ignoring her furious calls as the crowd swallowed him.

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Short first chapter because it just happened this way. The others are longer.

_**Reviews are love.**_


	2. Chapter 2

Please read the author's notes at the bottom after reading this chapter to understand how I'm visualising the state of the office and morale in this AU, and thus why everyone and everything is as bad as it is. In a sense, it's like that old black and white Christmas movie where the guy wishes he was never born.

Thank you to all who reviewed, the multitude of responses really blew me away. I hope this fic continues to justify your trust. Thank you.

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"Harriet, we talked about this. It stays between us, no-one else has to know. He wouldn't want that." Bud hissed at his wife, their earlier conversation obviously having slipped her mind.

"But we have to tell _somebody,_ Bud," Harriett cried "it's our duty. They deserve to know!"

"No, it's NOT our duty and do you really think anyone deserves to know?" Bud shot back "Do you really think people in this office even care to know about him after the whole mess with the Singer murder trial? Most of them now never even met him, except for you and I only very few of that staff are still here. He didn't contact anyone to let them know about how he was, so he obviously doesn't want us to know...""

"He never told anyone he was leading his own investigation..."

Bud looked down at the floor sadly "You're actually surprised? Given the Colonel's attitude towards Singer and the fact she decided Singer was already guilty even before the investigation started and kept believing it even after Singer was cleared, and her hostile behaviour towards him, was it any surprise he wanted to conduct an unbiased investigation of his own without anyone trying to influence it? Then the Admiral's conduct towards him in that whole Moritz debacle... And after he was arrested for Singers murder, the way the Colonel washed her hands off him while the Admiral forbade any of us to contact him? He was singled out and then led to the pasture to be shot in the back by the very people he trusted and relied on. We weren't being particularly good friends to him either, no wonder he felt no-one at JAG cared or even still cares."

"At least the Colonel should know..." Harriet whined insistently. _Maybe they can still patch things up! She shouldn't be with that spook, she and the Commander are destined for each other!_

"She's the last person who should find out or even deserves to know, Harriet!" Bud grumbled, by now really annoyed with his stubborn wife for not getting it. Harriett could be intelligent, but there were times like this when she was just a stereotypical dumb blonde and he wondered why he'd married her.

He wanted to continue getting through to her, but anything more being said was prevented by the arrival of the main actor of their conversation herself.

Mac stopped in the middle of the entrance to the break room, staring them down. Bud couldn't face the cold, hard look in the otherwise warm-coloured eyes and felt a shiver go down his spine. How could such a physically beautiful woman be so cold he would never know. The worst part was, she hadn't always been like that. It was only after the Commander had left that they'd noticed just how bad it was and no-one had been in the position to stop her fragmentation, not even the psychiatric counseling Chegwidden had sent her once had helped.

"I'm the last person to know _what_, Lieutenant?" she asked quietly, ice dripping from her voice.

"It's personal, ma'am." Bud said tightly "Respectfully, ma'am, it's a need-to-know."

"You'd never guess who we saw yesterday, ma'am." Harriet gushed out quickly, ignoring her husband's angry looks.

"Harriet!" Bud tried to salvage the situation one last time.

But Harriett ignored him in her usual way, even after everything that had happened her rose-coloured glasses still made her believe Harm and Mac were made for each other and that she should help fulfill that from God handed down prophecy.

Had they not been in uniform then Bud could've put a hand over her mouth or even dragged her away, but he couldn't do that in front of a superior officer.

When LtCol returned from South America alone, declaring that, while he was alive, Harm wouldn't be coming back, everyone had had a pretty good idea who's fault that was. Especially when Agent Webb had picked her up for lunch the next day and had been a steady figure at JAG ever since. With that day HQ had veered into a downward spiral that was by now almost at it's end before the fiery splat. Most of the original staff had requested transfers, citing lack of trust in command and it was a wonder the "dynamic duo" of Chegwidden and MacKenzie still had their positions.

"We saw Commander... I mean, former Commander Rabb on TV last night! He was on a documentary about..." Harriet's voice died out slowly as she realized the expected relieved and happy expression on Mac's face wasn't making it's appearance. Slowly it was starting to sink in that perhaps she should've held her mouth shut, but as always her enthusiasm in being a busybody had gotten away with her.

"And why am I the last person who should know that, Lieutenant?"

Harriet started to say something, trying to fix the terrible mess she'd made, but was wilted by Mac's glare "Not you, Lieutenant Sims. I asked Lieutenant Commander Roberts."

Mac then refocused her lasers on Bud, who swallowed heavily, but for the first time in a long time stood firm.

"With all due respect, because the only time Commander Rabb was mentioned since he resigned it was made clear his name shouldn't be mentioned again, ma'am." Bud made sure to leave out the qualifier 'former' Commander, something that didn't escape Mac's notice, but after 18 months of her constantly pissy mood and the sole fact she was the one who'd chased the CDR away, he'd had enough. The man had been a part of their lives once and had done way too much for them ALL to treat him like a pariah.

Maybe he'd been blind before or just too busy with his own problems, but Mac's blase attitude after Harm's resignation had been a shock. After all the man had done for her, having even sacrificed his career and wings for her sorry six, she was not only not grateful, but also held things against him. Ridiculous things, things that happened a long time ago, some of them even a decade ago, and some that didn't even personally affect her.

_BUD: 'Do you miss him?'_

_MAC: 'No. Things are working pretty well here. No-one is firing automatic weapons in the court-room.'_

_BUD: 'That was years ago!'_

_MAC: 'The bullets are still in the ceiling.' then __left __for her office._

Things then became even worse when they discovered LCDR Imes was a fraud, leaving them with having to go through every single one of her cases searching for mistakes or reasons for mistrial, and, even after Admiral Chegwidden's orders, CDR Rabb could not be located and brought in to help them with the overwhelming load.

No-one had any clue where the man had gone under, but it was like he'd disappeared off the face of the planet.

They were still going through the cases, over a year later, the end nowhere in sight. It didn't matter even one bit that the last two members of the senior staff left were involved in some kind of a feud, making an already miserable work environment even more toxic. The morale at HQ was at it's lowest level in 10 years, there was even some talk about requests for transfer out among the newly arrived bodies. Why the Admiral still refused to get some more attorneys for such an overworked and undermanned command, where only 3 attorneys had to handle everything, was beyond Bud's understanding. Maybe it was time to start looking for new job opportunities...

"Need I remind you, _Lieutenant_ Commander," Mac stressed his lower rank, a cheap tactic that had Bud fume silently "that it's the _former _Commander's fault we're drowning in work? If he hadn't gone off on one of his loose cannon flights of fancy and thrown his career away the Imes mess would've been cleaned up by now."

_That trademark loose cannon flight of fancy saved your __life, you __ungrateful sorry excuse for a human being, friend and officer._Bud thought, but held his tongue, years of resentment over losing his best male friend and the unbearable work environment, turning to anger and despise as they boiled over.

Looking between the two spouses Mac widened her stance as she glared them down "Now I want to know exactly what you think you saw and where you saw it."

When nobody said anything Mac growled "Well?"

Bud looked Harriet "You were the one who opened her mouth even though I told you not to... Go ahead, this is after all what you wanted, isn't it?"

Harriet glared at her husband, but nonetheless started talking as Mac listened carefully.

After Harriet related everything she knew, Mac dismissed the two junior officers, thinking about what she would do with this new information.

Seeing a Petty Officer distribute even more FOIA requests and Imes' case files to evaluate, the decision was made. He was a loose cannon and a man she'd never succeeded in getting control over, but no matter how much it pained her to admit it, he was by far the most productive member of the staff and had regularly done two to three times the work than any other member. If they even hoped of ever clearing the backlog, FOIA requests, Imes files and getting current with the case-load, they needed Harm back on the staff.

A visit with the Admiral where she related her discovery got her two weeks leave and a MAC flight reservations as soon as she was ready. With an order to Blakeslee, the Admiral's third Yeoman after Tiner, she had the copy of that documentary in her hands within days, and could confirm Roberts' claim.

Standing in the bullpen, observing all this, Bud turned to Harriet, heaving a sad sigh.

"When they bring him back trussed up like cattle," he started, refusing to meet her eyes, he was so angry with her "to be their slave and again clean up their mess, probably taking him from where he was happy, you can tell him who he has to thank for having his life destroyed again."

Having said that he walked off stiffly, ashamed he had been unable to prevent this ill befalling the man whom he owed so much and whom he had so wrongfully ignored.

On the other side of the planet one man was going about his quiet evening routine, unaware of the tumult his life would once again be thrown into.

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AN: Chegwidden is still the JAG, Cresswell is not on the scene, that's why there was also no new blood as in S10. Harriet didn't get preggers again, so she's still on the staff. Bud received his promotion, otherwise he would've been medically discharged. This is one VERY extreme alternate version of what could've happened had Harm not returned.

For the state of the office imagine the situation the way it was in byrhthelem's "Giving it a try", but with the provision that in this fic it's been nearing the boiling point slower, everything going downhill much more deeply. With Harm absent the senior staff are still at each other's throats, reasons and isses being added regularly instead of resolved, there was no-one there to try to stop Mac's downward spiral, and the staff in general are fragmented, each member for him/her-self. There is no unit cohesion, no standing-together, everyone just wants to be done with their daily assignments to then escape home; not even a sliver of the JAG family as they were pre-1999.

On top of that, with Chegwidden's own descent into "madness" and into being a complete and utter, un-saveable wanker that we weren't exposed to on the show because he quit, together with stubborn refusal to get over Harm's "betrayal" and not getting more attorneys transferred in, cases have been piling up more than the current staff can handle, creating months of backlog, together with the Imes mess and FOIA requests.

Everyone's overworked, exhausted, doing long shifts, a lot of support staff had transferred out because they couldn't cope with the atmosphere and complete crackdown on any personal life anymore. The situation is just before an explosion that will tear JAG apart if nothing changes.

For some reason the dynamic duo believe that if they drag back the one whom they believe is to blame for this catastrophe and thus "make everything as it once was", all the problems will be magically resolved. Unrealistic belief, but Chegwidden and MacKenzie were long since unrealistic as characters by S9 as it was. The thing they didn't consider is, whether Harm even wants to go back...

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_**Reviews are love.**_


	3. Chapter 3

I would like to take the opportunity to welcome **Saissa **into the writer community and especially into the not-HMac, yes-HarmLoren writer community. :)

She has just started posting her first fic, "Solitude", a Harm/Loren story, which is off to a great start. So, people let's give her encouragment to write more, so go read and review!

Solitude:

.net/s/8037250/1/Solitude

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A week later, after a long, dusty ride from her hotel the taxi which Mac deemed not only unhygienic, but also doubted it's road-worthiness, stopped in a large courtyard surrounded by several run-down buildings. The sign at the entrance of the compound declared this the Umbawa National Park Section 9, which Mac thought a classy name for such a pathetic place.

Quite different from what she was used to there was no pavement in sight, only hard packed dirt. The buildings themselves looked shabby and there was barely any shadow anywhere. The air stood still, the stiffling heat with it's high humidity pressing down on creatures unlucky enough to be there.

To Mac it was Hell on Earth.

Why would ANYONE willingly live here was beyond her comprehension. Why would anyone WILLINGLY COME here was even more unbelievable.

_He never was the sharpest tool in the shed after all..._

Mac raised her hand to shield her eyes as she looked around, partially hoping she'd immediately spy Harm, even though she was aware just how unrealistic that hope was, just to get the hell away from here ASAP. Spotting the large board saying "Management" she smiled grimly and made her way there, ignoring the mixed looks she was receiving in her tight blouse and hotpants.

Stepping into the dark interior of the single level building her stress level dropped somewhat as it was cooler than outside, no doubt helped by the large fan that was lazily turning on the ceiling in the middle of the room.

The room itself was small, only a couple of desks - one with a computer, ancient looking as it was, and quite a few file-lockers. It was just another office, seen one, seen 'em all.

Approaching a native working at the computer-less desk she cleared her throat to draw his attention.

The man stopped what he was doing, eyes raising slowly to meet hers.

"Do you speak English?" she wanted to know, figuring it was best to clear that up first. Completely forgetting that not only had Namibia once been part of South Africa, a British colony, but also that it's official language was English.

"Yes." the man replied in an accent, but quite clearly.

"I'm looking for a Harmon Rabb. I've been assured I can find him here..."

Mac couldn't say for sure, but she had a feeling the man's features froze for a moment, but it was too short and fleeting to say for sure.

"Harmon Rabb? Don't know him."

Mac pulled out an official Navy picture of Harm in his uniform. She stubbornly implied the implications of not having any of him in civilian clothes.

"You sure you've never seen him?"

The man looked closer, but still shook his head. Mac's lips thinned in frustration.

"What about your boss... would he know?"

"My boss?" the man echoed, faking cluelessness. Whatever was about to befall the man, he neither wanted to be a part of it, much less the reason the shit-storm had found him.

Mac fought hard not to roll her eyes "Yes, your boss. Where can I find him?"

"Outside."

Sighing heavily in exasperation at the dimwitted man Mac steeled herself for another venture into the hell outside, true to her MO not bothering to say thanks or goodbye. Thanking someone is after all a sign of weakness...

It didn't take long before she found who she believed she was looking for. He was the only one with an air of authority. An average-height, overweight white man, with a bald patch on his head and wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose as he was explaining something to a group of workers. At hearing footsteps nearing them they all looked up. Seeing a complete strangers approaching them with a determined air, the man dismissed the crew.

"Can I help you?"

_Finally we're getting somewhere._

"Yes, you can." Mac said, straightening and held up the picture "My name is Colonel Sarah MacKenzie. I'm looking for a Harmon Rabb."

But the man didn't look impressed even when she emphasised her rank, inflating it a level. His eyes narrowed imperceptibly, there was something about this woman that was rubbing him wrong, that he didn't like. Reserve, he decided, was the best option.

"Good day. I'm Titus de Jong, operations manager of this part of the park, but that's not important. What is important is why you're looking for this Mister Rabb."

"So he _is _here?" Mac pressed.

"Didn't say that." the man shook his head in denial "Why are you looking for him _here_ of all places? We're just a small part of a small national park in a small African country. What would an American be doing here?"

"There was a documentary on this park aired in the US several days ago and he was seen in one of the scenes."

"Ah, yes, the documentary, I should've known that would come back to bite us in some way."

Mac fought very hard to ignore the dig, but as the man was probably the only one around here with whom she could talk, she didn't want to make him into an enemy yet.

"You do realize that documentary was filmed over 8 months ago?" Titus continued "People pass through here a lot."

"I have confirmation he's still in the area." Mac fibbed.

"And you still haven't said why you're looking for him..." Titus reminded her, not giving an inch. He'd never heard of this woman and after talking to her for a minute he wished he'd never even met her. There was instant antipathy on both sides.

"He's a friend of mine who just disappeared last year and I miss him." Mac never blinked. After all, what was one more lie on top of the hundreds of others she even told to people closest to her? By now she was an accomplished liar.

"And it took you so long to finally start looking for him?" the man went right for the one weak spot in her story, then waved with his hand, indicating it was only a rhetorical question.

Both knew he knew where Harm was and what the score with the sincerity behind Mac's search for him was, it was just a matter of IF Titus would reveal Harm's location, if he believed doing so would not harm the man, or if it was better he covered for him and sent her away.

The man's beady little eyes seemed as if they were penetrating her, seeing right through her and it annoyed Mac to no end.

To her annoyance he seemed to relax even more, which indicated he knew all too well just how much in control he was of the situation. She was angry at both, at his control and him knowing. Actually, make that, she was also angry at him and that stupid idiot Harm for deserting JAG, leaving her with all the work and then running off to Africa of all places where she was constantly hot and sweaty and smelly and she was angry at Africa for being so hot and sweaty and smelly and ugly and she was angry at...

Titus waited for a couple of seconds, gathering his thoughts, before he started with a measured tone.

"I hope you don't mind me sharing with you something about Africa, Miss MacKenzie, and the people who move here." Titus spoke just as she was about to yell at him for stalling "For Westerners, Africa is the last refuge... a place to start anew. They're either running from the law or from the oppressiveness of their old lives or from a particular someone who caused them grief. Men usually come here to heal and forget the women that caused them enough trouble that they would move to the other side of the world to get away from. Ex-military, like your friend, come here in a wish to make quick money as mercenaries for the numerous Western corporations who want to create a world by their own rules here, usually in the diamond, mining and logging industry. If this Mr Rabb you're looking for is around here, I'd suggest checking some of the mercenary camps. But, looking at you, I can definitely see you're the trouble this man ran away from and thus I can't help but hope you won't find him."

Mac fumed, never before had she been this insulted by someone and the part that gnawed at her was the fact that she couldn't even make him pay. Were he in the US military she could've and would've made his life a living hell, but he wasn't, she was in fact on his turf. He was the boss here and if he wanted he could have her thrown out of the park on her six.

Even though what he was saying struck a chord within her - Clay had told her the CIA had always been and still was very interested in getting Harm on their payroll, same going for any number of mercenary corporations in the US that were thriving like mushrooms after rain due to the wars the US fought; but instinct was telling her Harm didn't go that way.

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_**Reviews are love.**_


	4. Chapter 4

The muscles twitching under the man's left eye made her even more certain the toad was lying.

"You're lying." she stated flatly, her voice taking on a threatening edge "You can either cooperate or I can go to the local authorities and we will _make_ you cooperate."

Who was this sweaty, pudgy man to lecture her on how she treated those around her? HER? The Chief of Staff of JAG HQ, she who had so many connections in the Agency, she who...

"Oh, you can try." the man interrupted her thoughts, smiling patronizingly "But you won't get far. You see, people here and especially the government, the military and the police, have no love for the US or it's bully citizens. Sure, they do cooperate from time to time when the decision comes from high-up and is deemed important to the country, but they're not really happy about it. Or quick..."

"Listen here, you little..." Mac started her rant, but a familiar voice cut her off before she could say anything that might later come back to bite her on the ass.

"It's okay, Titus, I'll handle this." said the calm voice from behind her, gving away no feeling, then thanked his boss for trying to protect him "Thank you, old friend."

Titus de Jong nodded grimly in greeting and acquiescence, then turned and left for his office. Where he would keep a look out to determine what sort of first aid his friend would need after this.

Mac turned around, ready to rail in on the former Commander, when her eyes landed on him. Even though she knew she should've expected it, Harm wasn't in his uniform, nor was he in the only casual clothing she'd ever seen him in, jeans.

He was all dressed up in khaki, long pants tucked in combat boots, shirt with it's long sleeves rolled and pinned up mid-bicep, and a forest-green wide-rimmed hat.

It wasn't an American style hat, either. It was the type of hats Mic had had in his collection at home in Australia, a felt slouch hat. It even had the right side rim pinned to the crown - something she didn't know had been originally adopted by ANZAC as their official hats to ease carrying and use of rifles.

_Since when is he wearing hats? _Mac wondered, though with the powerful sun the answer should've been obvious.

The most surprising part of his new self and the brightest beacon of how different his new life was from his old one with the Navy, the AK-47 in his hands, was held with such familiarity it made her wonder just what had he been doing since they'd parted in Paraguay. Maybe he'd switched sides? That would explain his choice of weapon...

"Mac." he said, eyes guarded, the single word screaming he didn't really want to deal with her and that she should say what she was there to say and go home.

Tough luck for him. She was there to get through his thick skull that it was time he stopped acting like a child, from running away to pouting, return home and do what he was supposed to.

"Watched too much Crocodile Dundee?" was the first thing to come flying out of her mouth as she snorted derisively, her first instinct kicking in too fast to realize being antagonistic wouldn't help her case any.

Aquamarine eyes darkened, lips pressed into a thin line, but he remained calm and civil even as he quirked his eyebrow "Came all this way just to insult how I dress?"

Some people have in the past claimed that he and Mac were too alike to coexist peacefully, but they were wrong with one part. While it was true, he and Mac could've never coexisted peacefully, it was because they weren't so alike at all. Not only was Mac too tense and aggressive while Harm was too laid-back and easy-going, a difference that would definitely create a lot of friction in a relationship; but Harm was also capable of learning, growing and maturing. He had done plenty of that in the last several years, most of it in the last 18 months, while Mac, quite obviously, hadn't.

Watching her steam for a couple of seconds, he resigned into his cruel fate. Seeing he wasn't going anywhere he put his right arm through the strap on the automatic rifle and slung it over his shoulder, barrel pointing to the ground, for a second uncomfortable as the clip dug into his back before settling into it's usual spot.

"What are you doing here, Mac? Better yet, how did you know where to find me?"

Mac sniffed in disgust as she looked around at the shabby surroundings. Harm knew what she was seeing, it was the same thing he saw himself when he first found his way here. Buildings in Africa were unlike their counterparts in the US and Europe, their owners and inhabitants were usually poor people and even if they weren't, while not being stinking rich diamond/oil/wood/drugs/guns barons or descendants of wealthy European settlers, their homes' function wasn't to be a decoration, they were utalitarian and functional while being as simple as possible. Even the compound of the Reserve was like that; brick buildings with large open windows and low tin roof, their purpose to provide shade from the oppressive sun while being airy. Even though he had lived in a lot of places during his run with the Navy, the longest in DC, Harm was still a Californian boy at heart and Namibia's climate suited him just fine. Even sweating like a pig he felt great, the best and most relaxed he'd felt in a long time, the sun and the heat were the best therapy and stress relief for him.

This was home now.

"Bud and Harriet saw you on TV and let me know." she edited the truth a bit "Now that you've had your time to sulk and bemoan your cruel fate and how everyone was unfair to you, you can leave your Tinkerbell and the rest of your little friends, grow up and come home, back to the real world. There's plenty of work waiting for you, it's been piling up while you've been off wrestling alligators."

Repeating, but also meaning and believing, the Admiral's rant in his office when she'd told him what she'd found out from the Roberts.

Harm's eyes hardened as the most familiar effect of his and Mac's conversations, sting of hurt, returned like an old, unwanted friend.

"You would think that, Mac." he retorted, to his disappointment losing the hold on his emotions.

He really should've been used to Mac shooting down and belittling every single thing he did, everytime he tried to help someone or be useful, presenting it as something ridiculous or meaningless or just a flight of fancy.

If anything, this time away from her had given him a lot of clarity on a lot of things.

"Then what is it exactly that you're doing here?" Mac snorted derisively, obviously humoring him.

"Something that makes me feel like I haven't felt in a long time." Harm said, turning around and striding away, knowing that was the best decision at that point. Their talk was escalating towards another fight and today had been a good day, he didn't want to ruin it even more than Mac's sole presence there had.

Mac, mad at him for just walking off on her again, yelled after him "Like what?"

Harm turned around and continued walking backwards as he threw his arms wide and yelled, a smile lighting his face, just before he disappeared between the huts "Alive."

Exasperated that he just couldn't be left in peace, Harm made his way between two buildings and took a right turn at the end of one, then stopped in surprise.

"Niki!" he greeted surprised, not having expected to find her there today.

A dirty look.

"You here alone? Where is she?"

Another mutter, then Niki turned her back on him and walked off.

Looking after her in bewilderment, Harm sighed and shook his head, not able to believe his luck today "Damn women."

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_**Reviews are love.**_


	5. Chapter 5

Thank you to all who made the effort of leaving a few words. I would also like to specifically ask my anonymous reviewers who pose a question to leave me a way to contact them and answer their reviews. Either write your email address with your name in the window for the name or in the review body itself. If you choose the later version, please put empy spaces after every dot and "at". Example: my. email email. com

The preferred option is still to login to (or create) your account and review through that one, as it enables the chance to respond. :)

I know most of you don't really like the chapters ending where they are and so soon, but these updates stop there for a reason. It's all part of my nefarious plan! :D

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Looking left, then right, Harm ignored his fatigue and made sure his small team was ready and in position. He'd trained them well, their camouflage would fool anyone, even him if he didn't know what to look for. He'd have to send a thank-you card to Gunny Crockett for overruling his wishes.

It was now or never. Waiting longer could result in their protectees dying and that was what they were there to prevent.

Giving Nahas and Attu the hand signal he could see both of them lean closer to the scopes of their high powered dart rifles, loaded with tranquilizer darts strong enough to put to sleep an 80kg man within seconds. No sound was heard from 50 yards, only the slight jerk of barrels revealed the guns had been fired. Looking through his PSO-1 sight Harm could see the targets twitch as the compressed-gas-propelled needles hit and penetrated their skins, then flail frantically as they tried to get at the cause of their distress. But their movements were already slowing down and becoming sluggish, as they lost consciousness.

Two down, two to go. Unfortunately the other two had noticed their friends were down and after a second's confusion they opened fire in the direction they guessed the white darts had come from. The bullets were whizzing by close enough that Nahas had to pull back instead of reloading his rifle, while Attu managed to get one.

He had to act otherwise one of his team could be hit. Closing his eyes for a millisecond Harm asked his mark for forgiveness, then confirmed his aim and pressed the trigger.

With a red spray the shooter fell to the ground, his weapon flying a good 2 yards, and didn't get back up again.

Sighing a sigh of regret Harm gave another signal, getting to his feet, four bushes following suit. Slinging the dart rifles over their shoulders, the two snipers took their AKs into their hands as the group neared the lying bodies in a carefully choreographed movement, covering each other and keeping a look-out for possible hidden enemies. In the background the would-be victims escaped, frightened by the shooting. The imposing figure of Bul stared them down as he secured his family's escape. Harm was glad he hadn't tried to charge because in that case he couldn't have guaranteed his safety.

Arriving at the scene his team spread out, securing weapons from their fallen opponents as they kept them covered with their own in case they were faking. Harm turned to the last man, finding him still alive.

"Mbuku!"

But Mbuku was already making his way to the injured man, sliding on his knees and pulling out the first aid kit. In seconds the team's medic was tending to the casualty with the hopeful outcome of keeping the man alive.

"Attu, Khal, go get the cars. We need to get him to the first aid station."

"Yes, boss." and the two men were off, running full pelt for the team's Hilluxes.

Harm grimaced at the honorific, whenever they called him like that he felt like a mob boss ordering his crew, but the men persisted on that name.

Turning to his remaining man, Harm nicked in the direction of their sleeping captives "Secure them, I'll keep them covered."

By the time the two Toyotas arrived, the roaring of hungry cats, who had caught the scent of blood, could be heard nearby. Loading the trucks with their prisoners and the injured man, now bandaged and sedated, together with the evidence, the five men then left the scene, glad they'd survived another call.

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After a sleepless night and dreams that were actually memories of the last months in the Navy, followed by a rough morning during which he had nearly taken a man's life, Harm was in no mood to be harrassed by the Harbinger of those nightmares. Yet, that person didn't care about that and ran after him when she saw him trying to avoid her.

When she jumped in front of him and blocked his path he unfortunately couldn't ignore her anymore, so he sighed with resignation and said with a defeated, tired tone.

"Go back to DC, Mac, you're just wasting time and annoying the hell out of everyone here, not just me."

"I think I'll be the one to judge when I go home." Mac shot back, crossing her arms and giving him one of those pissy faces he'd always detested.

They were disrupted in their discussion that was starting to get loud when the noise of an approaching vehicle drowned out their voices.

Initially Harm didn't react to the new sound, but that changed when a car door slammed closed and a young voice with a slight accent called out to him.

"Harm, I heard you saw Bul?"

The young woman stopped in her tracks, voice dying out as she registered a stranger standing next to her friend. Her eyes darted between the newcomer and Harm, who looked wound so tight like he was about to snap in half.

When his eyes settled on the owner of the always welcome voice some of the tension left his body, the presence of his friend giving him emotional strength and determination to deal with his troublesome ex-partner. The young woman gave him a slight smile, but then frowned disapprovingly at the older female who was clearly the source of Harm's agitation, that fact causing an immediate dislike.

Who was this stranger, what was she doing there and what did she want from Harm?

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Mac frowned, doing her survey and giving off strong "Hands off! He's mine!" signals as she always did whenever a female came within 50 yards of Harm, even if that woman showed no interest of that sort.

With scorn, the first thing she noted was that the young woman was a blonde. The girl was nothing special, plain features, a little shorter than average, skin bronzed from living in this country and spending a lot of her time outside, the sturdy, healthy build of a country-girl or even maybe a tomboy, small breasts and a slightly naive look in her eyes... not a threat.

When Mac compared her to her own above average height, supermodel figure, seductive facial features, generous chest and overall superiority, she felt only pity for this country bimbo. Who was the idiot to release her out of the playpen?

_Yet again khaki. Does no-one here have any imagination?_ thought Mac as she viewed how the younger woman was dressed. Khaki knee-length shorts with cargo pockets, hiking boots, white cotton shirt and a female version of a slouch hat. All of her clothes were made and matched for practicality and usefulness, not for looks.

"Yeah, just in time too." Harm spoke up, bringing the newcomer's attention back on himself. He gestured with his rifle towards a group of handcuffed men, guarded by armed men in fatigues as they waited for the police to arrive "They were just about to start shooting when we got there."

The smile disappeared immediately upon seeing the poachers. She knew some of them were in the business out of necessity, to keep their large families from starving, but the fact remained that they remorselessly slaughtered these magnificent, _endangered and protected_ elephants and rhinos in a truly brutal way just for their tusks, the ivory gold.

There was a lot of money in this business and unfortunately Harm and his team could only cure the symptoms, instead of removing the disease permanently - for that they'd need authority over people who were usually above the law and outside the country. Which Claire honestly couldn't see happening.

"Harm!" spoke the dark-haired stranger waspishly, resenting being ignored in favor of the girl.

Whatever more she meant to say was swallowed when the girl's companion, who had been distracted by something, caught up with and moved around her to see what was going on. The irritating woman suddenly lost all the aggression and annoyance that had been hovering around her like a cloud.

The shorter newcomer, who'd grown an immediate dislike for the stranger over her superior attitude and the impatient, patronizing and commanding master-to-servant tone in her voice when addressing Harm, hid an amused smile when the stranger looked terrified of her friend.

"What... What's that?" stuttered Mac, pointing with her finger at the lage animal who looked even grouchier than usual, even to the point of slightly showing fangs.

Harm stared blankly at Mac for a couple of seconds, then explained slowly, wondering if the heat and the sun had gotten to her. She really should have something on her head...

"That's a dog, Mac."

Then watched with interest as Mac took another couple of paces backwards.

She'd owned a dog herself at one point, the poor Jingo that she'd gotten rid off within a year, so why was she acting that way?

The animal, sensing fear, stepped forward, sending Mac back yet again.

What was obviously a game to the dog would've continued were it not for the owner's warning drawl "Niki..."

Looking on lazily, in no hurry to step in or come to his former partner's rescue, annoyance over being disturbed where he'd been sure he was safe burning slowly but steadily, Harm enjoyed the current turn of tables and offered helpfully "She's a Boerboel."

Hearing his voice made Niki look at him and, upon confirming his identity, grunted in irritation.

"She doesn't like me either." Harm shrugged, used to that by now, but his young friend disagreed.

"She does like you, but you like to annoy her. You keep messing with her water bowl and hiding her toys whenever you visit. And you know how anal she is about all her toys being in that basket..."

"I can't help myself." Harm shrugged, grinning "It's just too funny when she's running around, searching for them everywhere."

"And that's why she growls at you. Next time try playing with her and those toys and you'll see how her disposition will change."

"Is she... Is she dangerous?" Mac stammered, licking her lips nervously, taking in the dog's size and fangs as she stored the new information away for later reviewing.

"She makes a damn good bodyguard." Harm jumped in, nodding, from the corner of his eyes seeing his young friend shoot him a sharp, puzzled look. A tiny shake of his head told her he knew what he was doing, to which she replied with her own small jerk of chin, letting him proceed.

"These dogs were bred for guarding the homestead by Boer farmers and there are even tales of them taking on lions. They'll die protecting their owners."

"Harm, can I talk to you privately for a second?" Mac asked, clearly uncomfortable with Niki's close proximity and wanting to get the hell away from it.

"If it makes you leave faster..." Harm muttered and moved to follow nonetheless when he was stopped by a small hand on his forearm.

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AN: Trevor, now you know why I was asking you those weeks ago, how long Mac had Jingo. ;-)

_**Reviews are love.**_


	6. Chapter 6

"Harm." troubled blue eyes peered up at him as he turned around "I'm sorry I interrupted and got involved into whatever is going on here. Niki and I will now go and find Titus and let you two talk in peace."

"There's no need for you to go, Claire." Harm tried to stop her, upset at how Mac's mere presence was already disrupting his life and ruining things again "She won't stay long."

"You sure? I can easily wait for you with Titus."

"Just give me a minute to hear what she wants and then I'm all yours."

"Okay then."

"Thank you!" Harm sighed in relief of having protected his new way of life from his old one, unknowingly breaking into that smile that had threatened the vertical stability of many a woman in it's time. Leaving his friend secretly regaining her composure, he approached his former friend with a cautious step, really not wanting to talk to her.

But he had no other option, if he wanted to get rid of her and get back to living the life he'd chosen as an adult he would have to have this conversation.

"Okay, Mac, what is it?" he demanded as soon as he stopped in front of the annoying woman in question.

Looking at him pissily, her weight perched on one hip, arms crossed under her breasts, Mac glared at him through her eye-lashes and then sent a look behind him.

"Who's she?"

_Of course..._ Harm sighed, wondering why had he actually thought Mac would refrain from giving free rein to her delusional possessive side.

"_She_..." Harm repeated, offended Mac had used such a derisive tone for his friend, but still refused to reveal Claire's name to keep her out of the fight that was already bubbling "is someone important, but to me, not you. You're not here to meet my friends or find out how I'm doing, so out with it. And I'll be much obliged if you refrain from belittling my work here, my attire and especially my friends."

Barely stopping herself from letting him know what she thought, Mac decided to get right to the point.

"I'm here with an offer from the Admiral."

"Oh?" a thick eyebrow rose as it's owner leaned back, crossing his arms as well and aimed a sarcastic look at his conversation partner "What has the good JAG himsefl to say?"

Mac frowned, her lips becoming a thn line, as she struggled to keep quiet, but she was under strict orders to try her best otherwise it was _she_ who would be getting all those FOIA requests instead of the man before her. The old man still knew just how to play people against each other to gain results he wanted.

"He's offering to have you reinstated in the Navy at your previous rank, on the condition you return to JAG and start being a team player. Of course you'll start off with easier cases as you've been out of the coutroom for almost two years, but you get your years in service back and thus the pension, plus all the benefits... the medical coverage, the additional expenses, the..."

"No." Harm cut off. It wasn't the only reason he'd declined, but he had a pretty good idea just why he'd get "easier cases" and what exactly they were. Just like after he'd returned from flying he'd again be made a pariah and punished for not towing the company line.

"No? What do you mean, no?" Mac looked at him blankly, that answer was the last thing she'd been expecting.

"I mean 'no' as in 'no, thank you'." Harm explained calmly "Now, if there's nothing else, I wish you a safe journey home."

"This is a really generous offer Harm, it's the only way you'll ever get back into the Navy, you can't turn it down." Mac persisted, not willing to just give up. She was looking at a LOT of work if she returned alone and that was a sitution she wasn't just willing to accept so easily.

"Yes, I can and I just have. I'm a civilian and thus under no obligation to obey orders from military authority, in case you've forgotten." Harm repeated stubbornly, hating how spiteful he sounded, even though the real motivation was the simple, honest wish to be left alone so he could carry on with the life he'd chosen after these two people, who were now claiming they wanted him back, had first abandoned him at the time he'd needed them most, ripped him to shreds and demeaned him, his life and all the things he'd done and achieved, not so long ago.

"Harm." Mac fought hard to keep her voice calm and level when she decided to try her hidden ace "I think you should know that if you refuse to return the Admiral has half a mind to have you reactivated against your will and then you'll have no choice or you'll be prosecuted for desertion in a time of war. Article 85. You know what that means..."

Harm blinked in disbelief over what he was hearing "That's it? That's your tactic? You come _here_, into a foreign country, on my turf and have the gall to _threaten_ _me_? With capital punishment at that?"

"It's not a threat, it's a friendly advice."

He snorted in disagreement, sarcasm plain "Yeah, right, cause YOU are definitely someone known for giving people FRIENDLY advice..."

Mac opened her mouth to lash back out at him, but Harm was faster, his patience run out. Closing the distance between them, unconsciously looming over the far smaller and frailer woman, he poked a finger in her direction. Steam was coming out of his ears as years of mistreatment by the woman in front of him and by the politician hiding behind a Trident and two stars, who were now threatening him with a death sentence if he didn't fall in line with their plans and wishes, bubbled over, refusing to be stiffled yet again.

Mac's eyes widened, in the back of her mind she knew Harm wouldn't hurt a woman unless she threatened to visit pain on someone, but for the first time since she'd met him she was realizing just what an intimidating figure Harm could be, his size, physical strength and power of personality making him a truly frightening thing to behold when fired up. She also entertained the idea that maybe he had been pushed too far and had finally snapped... he had after all never really been all that stable. She took an unconscious step back as nearly a decade of resentment finally came out.

"Don't you or Chegwidden even dare threaten me. You're done here, Mac, pack your things, put your six on that plane and when you're back in DC you can tell that old bastard that I'm never, _ever_, going back. Also tell him he shouldn't bother sending any more of his lackeys or threats. I don't care what he or you want, I don't care what amount of crap you got yourselves, JAG and the Navy into back there that you now need me to dig you out. _Dig yourselves out_, it's not my problem anymore and right now I'm thanking god I'm through with the Navy because I wouldn't want to serve with someone so despicable. Don't pretend not to know what I'm talking about, Mac! The only reason either of you ever wanted or needed me was to be your slave, do the work no-one else handle. No more! For the seven years I knew you or, as I've come to realise, _thought_ I knew you, you kept repeating, like a broken record, that you were a Marine and that you didn't need my or anyone's help. Now's the time to prove it! And even if he tries to reactivate me, he has no way of getting me to comply. I will not serve under a man I don't trust or respect and who feels the same way about me and has no problem selling me out to secure his chair, leaving me to rot in jail for crimes I didn't commit. This is a _foreign country_. Neither he nor the Navy have power over me here, no matter what kind of papers they have and if he tries anything still, I'll just disappear and not even the CIA will be able to find me."

Mac's face had grown progressively harder and paler as Harm's rant went on and when he finished, she was silent for a couple of seconds, dark eyes glittering coldly, before saying stiffly "If that is your asnwer..."

"Yes, it is." Harm returned strongly.

Giving a sharp nod, Mac turned on her heels without saying goodbye and stalked away, back so straight and stiff Harm was half expecting it to snap.

_Good riddance to bad rubbish._

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	7. Chapter 7

Seeing his former partner disappear behind a could of dust he turned to a representative of his new life and winced, beating himself when he realized what she'd had to hear.

Walking slowly over, Harm stopped in front of her and just looked at his dirty boots for good 20 seconds, before he was capable of facing his young friend.

"I'm sorry you had to witness that." Harm apologised, deep shame colouring his voice "Things went far worse than I expected when I asked you to stay."

Claire nodded, letting him know she wasn't holding it against him, whilst gathering her thoughts on the whole scene. In the meantime Harm had directed them towards his small room, where he took up the single chair while Claire found her place at the foot of the bed. For the coming conversation that he could felt was going to be important they needed privacy.

"You were quite rude to her." she finally observed in a cautious tone, secure in the strength of their friendship and how well they knew each other by now that Harm would know what she really meant.

She didn't know what to make of the woman or of the exchange the newcomer and Harm had had. In the time she'd known him he'd always been polite and friendly with everybody, especially with women. For him to act like that he had to have some bloody good reason and she had a sinking feeling what it was.

Harm sighed and rubbed his eyes with his left hand, then dropped it, emotionally exhausted "Mac and I go way back and it hadn't been all that good for a long time up until I left the States. We're like fire and oil. Somehow we always seem to end up fighting."

"You don't want her here." Claire stated with certainty, filing the information away as he agreed.

"No, I don't. When I came here I hoped to put that life behind me. I came here to put _her_ behind me. I wanted to forget all about the US and everyone there and move on."

Claire sighed, the dread that had been building since the first moment she'd laid eyes on the stranger was now so thick and heavy it pressed strongly down on her slim shoulders. She could feel her disposition sour as terror, blind, vicious terror slowly clawed it's way into her heart. He would leave and she would be left adrift, alone again.

"She's the reason you left." she remarked finally, with a subdued voice as her stormy eyes sank to the ground. There was only one reason why he'd give up his entire life for a woman - love. Jilted and rejected love, but love nonetheless.

Harm's eyes shot wide in surprise. None of his friends ever asked him why he'd _left_, the only time he'd been asked anything even similar was that first day when Titus had wanted to know why had he come _here_. But never had the matter what had made him leave come up, his new friends strangely uninquisitive and unintrusive. Only now did he realize it wasn't because they didn't want to know, but it was because they _did_ know, or at least had a pretty good guess, and just didn't want to bring it up, knowing it was a touchy subject.

When that knowledge set in his affection and respect for these amazing people he was honored to call his friends, grew to an extent he'd never imagined.

"Not the entire reason," Harm responded finally with a low voice, not hearing Claire exhale a breath of relief she hadn't hurt him with her daring assumption "but a large part of it. Most of it. And now she's here, again upheaving my life just as it finally settled down."

The young woman felt apprehensive, a touch scared of what the other woman's visit meant, but she never hid from fear, she took it head on "What does she want? It must be important if she came all this way... I couldn't make out what was being said, but it was pretty clear you didn't like what she had to say."

"She wants me to go back." Harm revealed honestly.

Resignation of expected answer registered on the young woman's face and the paling of her sun-kissed skin masterfully hid the sudden sickness that squeezed her stomach and almost made her vomit.

"What did you say?" she almost whispered, tremulously, timidly, hating herself all the way for how much this affected her.

People don't stay, she knew this better than anyone, sooner or later they always leave you. She should've been prepared for this, should've protected herself, shouldn't have let him get this close and allow herself to get so attached. She'd been so stupid, you don't become best friends with someone you _know_ is probably just on a temporary stop-over.

"I said 'no'." Harm replied, some fire returning into his veins, then smiled bashfully as he recalled his exact manner "Well, it was more like 'no way in hell!'..."

The steel vice on her lungs suddenly released and Claire could breathe again. Yet there was still one worry that wouldn't let her relax completely until she knew. This man had turned out a reliable, solid friend, one she cherished deeply, and even though she knew it was selfish, she never wanted him to leave.

"Do you regret saying that? Do you wish you could change your mind and give her a different answer?"

The instant and confident, certain, way in which he said "No." released the last of her tension and she finally allowed her faithful companion to curve her lips.

"I like it here." Harm continued "I'm happy here. Really at peace, for the first time in a long time. I love my job - it's more than a job, it's a calling; and the people I've met and befriended are like family."

Giving the blonde a shrewd look, he grinned and impulsively hugged her, laughing at her momentary shriek of surprise, before it turned into laughter as well.

"Thank you for being my sounding board." he whispered as he let her go.

"It's in the job description." Claire shrugged casually, ignoring the cold that had assaulted her after Harm had released her, even though it was well over 30'C.

"That it does." he agreed, to his surprise noticing the girl turn embarrassed.

"Um, I don't want to seem like I'm abusing our friendship by asking this at this very moment, but I've got a favor to ask."

"You know you don't even have to ask, Claire. Anything, anytime."

It was too good to be left unexploited, so Claire jumped at it, grinning impishly "Then how will you know what the favor is?"

Chuckling, Harm shook his head "I walked right into that one, didn't I?"

"Yes, you sure did." she agreed.

"Okay, then, tell me what I can do for you."

"It's about the Landy... there's something wrong with it. It feels like it's lost power, doesn't have the pull it had. I've been noticing it over the last 6 months, but lately it's gotten to the point I can't ignore it anymore. I barely got through that stream near the house. I don't know what it could be and.."

"Done." Harm stated without hesitation, putting a large hand on her shoulder and squeezing gently "Won't be ready today though because if it's what I suspect, I'll need more than just an hour and what with the repair-shop in official use today. Hopefully you'll be able to bear my company when I pick you up and drive you to the School tomorrow."

"It'll be a challenge, but I think I'll survive." Claire retorted, eyes twinkling mischeviously, before she sobered "Thanks, Harm."

"De nada. As you said, it's in the job description." he grinned "Now let's go see what Dr Rabb can do about his patient."

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	8. Chapter 8

Parking the classic Landy, as it's owner affectionately called the vehicle, Harm got out and leaned against the fender, arms crossed, as he observed the small building. He smirked at how surprised she would be to see him there with her 4x4 all fixed and ready, waiting in the shade to keep warm instead of hot.

There were things he really disliked about Africa, but the weather definitely wasn't one of them.

With most of the year being hot and sunny the shutters were wide open, inviting a breeze to come through and freshen up the hot classroom. The big pine Harm had parked under provided excellent shade while he waited, allowing him to take off his hat. Playing with the wide brim he ruefully acknowledged the strong possibility that with his entire life having spent wearing various head-covers, from flight helmets to uniform covers and now this hat, there was a strong possibility he would get bald at one point. Yet, with the strong sun of his new home, the hat was as imperative as his shoes. The good news was, that for now nothing seemed to indicate an imminent hair loss.

Raising his eyes back up he saw through the gaping windows the young woman leaning on a desk as she helped one of her pupils through a problem. He couldn't tell exactly what it was about, but he clearly remembered Claire saying, as he'd picked her up in the morning, that today was Math day.

Finally the young woman dispersed the class, accepting the enthusiastic hugs from the children and looked fondly after them, a smile on her lips.

He waited while she cleaned up the class-room, squashing his instinct to go help her because he knew that would ruin the surprise. Done, Claire closed the shutters, making sure they would let air in, then exited the one-room building and locked the door. She knew it was pointless as no-one from the village would take anything, but it was a duty and a requirement.

Turning around absently once done, her light eyes stopped and widened when they found the familiar sand-coloured vehicle standing just a short distance away. A large smile made her pretty features beautiful as she ran to her car and the smugly grinning man.

_Some guy is gonna be one lucky bastard someday._ Harm couldn't help but think as he watched his young friend close the distance, but outwardly gave no indication of his mental processes.

"You fixed him! Thank you!" Claire exclaimed as she stopped in front of the vehicle to look it over, then grabbed the front of his shirt to pull him down and hug him.

Harm managed not to flinch in shock when she pressed a quick kiss on his stubbly cheek and forced himself to smile as if he was used to being kissed, even in a platonic way. Even though Claire had done it several times in the course of their friendship it was a surprise for him every time and he still hadn't gotten used to it. He knew such small gestures were a normal part of most close male/female friendships, which only showed how little platonic affection he'd been exposed to during the last decade.

The fact that no matter how close he had always assumed his friendship with Mac was, it had never contained any kind of displays of affection, much less physical, only an occasional comforting hug.

To make it even worse, in the 7 years they'd been partners Mac had ever initiated only ONE single hug... the time on the Seahawk after they'd heard Bud had survived. Every other closeness had always been initiated by Harm.

This spoke truths about that shipwrecked friendship he was only now willing to hear. Being friends with Claire was almost like going through another culture shock, so different was she in everything.

"Wait a minute! You didn't skip work today to do this, did you?

Harm grinned and then sobered, replying in a solemn tone that was belied by the twitch in his left cheek "I have a very understanding boss."

Claire could only roll her eyes, sigh and shake her head at the two men in her life. She knew it was of no use trying to get them to stop doing things like that so she didn't even try. She did get irritated by what she saw as coddling either when they went overboard or she was going through those days of high hormone levels. The rest of the time she understood it for what it was: their concern for her and her well-being, which Titus had had a good reason for and that Harm obviously shared for the simple reason of who he was.

"Besides, it was no biggie," Harm continued, making a mouse out of an elephant "just the carbs had to cleaned and then re-synched. The floats were out of spec and the jets were unsynched that's why it was running rich and flooding the carb bowls and the spark-plugs. Part of the reason for power loss. Then I flushed and cleaned the entire fuel system, put in a new fuel filter, oil filter and oil, and cleaned the spark plugs. Land Rovers were built for abuse, but dirty petrol will get to any machine, even one as robust as this and that dirt is what was the final nail in the coffin of your Landy's performance."

Eyes growing increasingly wider as she listened to his laundry list, Claire sincerely doubted all this work was no biggie, but Harm stopped then, as if he'd hit a wall, which it almost felt like when he realized what he'd been saying "Wait a minute! PETROL?"

Sending a mock dirty look to the person he was sure was the guilty party he found her eyes dancing as she barely restrained her mirth. Regaining her composure Claire still grinned "Well, what do you know! You can actually teach an American to speak English!"

Chuckling, he shook his head in fake dismay "Claire, one of these days..."

"Yeah? What are you going to do?" she challenged him good-naturedly.

"I haven't got a clue yet, but I'm sure I'll think of something."

The young woman yawned quite theatrically, showing him what she thought of his promise/threat "Promises, promises... Face it, Harm, I've been teaching kids for years... I know more than enough subtle techniques to handle you as well."

Harm's face was a picture as emotions and thoughts chased each other across it.

"I don't stand a chance, do I?" he sighed in mock resignation.

"Not really, no. It's best you just give in."

"Well, they _did_ teach us at the Academy to choose our battles and that it's better to live to fight another day than to sacrifice ourselves needlessly..."

"The military actually taught you something intelligent and useful?" Claire voiced her surprise.

"Okay, smartass, I think you got enough digs in for today. Get in the damn car!" Harm ordered, the grin belying the sharpness of his command.

"Sir, yes, sir!" she barked in return, doing a Benny Hill style of salute (whom _Claire_ had introduced him to): closed fist to the temple with palm showing, just the tip of the tongue peeking out between teeth and an impish smile on her face, but got in the car nonetheless.

Harm sighed, chuckling heartily.

It wasn't long before Claire pulled over and turned to him, gratitude shining in her eyes and in the happy smile.

"It works great, even better thank it did before. I really can't thank you enough."

"No problem." Harm dismissed, watching in pleasure as his young friend enjoyed her car.

It really was amazing how different she was to his former friends, especially one specific.

'Thank you', 'please' and 'I'm sorry' posed no problem to her and came with no problem when warranted, they were definitely not like waiting for rain in the dry part of Atacama Desert. Unlike Mac who hadn't even thanked him for killing people with his bare hands and then saving her sorry six from torture.

Claire didn't see it as a sign of weakness, something to be loathed, hated and avoided. Neither did she regard weaknesses as that.

On the contrary, she was quite aware everyone had weaknesses, nobody ever excelled in everything, it was just a fact of life. No, her tactic was to take her weaknesses into account and try to work around them, even with them in mind, or ask for help if she couldn't. So different from Mac, who was hopefully gone from their lives for good.

"You know you could always open a mechanic shop to earn some extra money." she remarked as she lovingly ran her hands over the metal of her car's dashboard.

"Meh." Harm grimaced at the thought "I earn enough, don't need more. Neither do I want to deal with the customers. Most of all, I don't need money to be happy."

"You're surprisingly wise for a soldier." Claire noted with a twinkle in her eyes, but honestly meaning it.

"Soldier." Harm shuddered theatrically, then raised an admonishing eyebrow at her "You know better than that, Claire."

"Yes, I do, but where is the fun in that?"

"I can think of many other ways to have fun." Harm started slowly, the little grin making her a bit wary and excited.

"Oh yeah? Do I want to hear them?" she demanded warily.

"Hm." the tall man pretended to think about it, then snapped his fingers, sighing mournfully "No, probably not."

"Thought so." she agreed, nodding.

"But you're going to anyway." the grin he sent her way this time was pure evil.

"Thought so too." she sighed, but smirked nonetheless "Okay, so what are they?"

"Oh, no, you don't get off that easy. Revenge is a dish best served cold." he grinned wickedly.

"Cat-wanker." Claire muttered, but averted her face to hide the smile as she pulled back onto the road.

"I really do regret not knowing a Brit before." Harm sighed remorsefully, enjoying their light-hearted banter thoroughly. How long had it been before a similar rapport had turned into barbs and insults? "Your curses are really innovative and interesting."

"Do you want to hear some more?" her eyes sparkled.

"Would love to, but I forgot my notebook and pencil at home."

"Bugger."

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	9. Chapter 9

If you've never seen them before I warmly recommend watching the excellent movies **The Gods Must Be Crazy **__and **The Gods Must Be Crazy 2** - they can be quite easily found. The No.2 isn't as good as the original, but the honey-badger makes up for that. :) There were two more sequels, but they are utter crap.

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

Shutting off the borrowed vehicle that was old at the time Michael Palin crossed Africa on his way to the South Pole in 1992, Harm got out and approached the house. When no-one answered his knocking he took a step back from the door and looked around, once more confirming the presence of Claire's vehicle that signaled she was home, before slowly circling the building.

"Claire!" he called out, rousing a sleeping Niki who lifted her head and grunted, glaring blearily at him from the veranda. Satisfied her point had been made, she again made herself comfortable.

Shaking his head at the animal and hiding a grin over the surprise he had in the car for her Harm turned his attention to the backyard, gaze flitting over the small vegetable garden, not finding the owner either there or on the veranda. Finally a slight movement in the corner of his eyes caught his attention. Seeing the flash of her khaki shirt in the shade of the majestic baobab he shook his head, unable to believe he'd forgotten to look for her there.

"I must be getting old." he muttered to himself, with quiet steps approaching the kneeling young woman, careful not to disturb her. Stopping about 30 feet away he waited in respectful silence. It wasn't long before her soft voice drifted over to him as she acknowledged his presence. There was no way she could've heard him, he surmised, as he'd made sure to be as quiet as possible, thus the only way she could know he was there was because she'd sensed him.

"They got married under this tree." her voice trembled as the pain flared in her chest again "And they died under it."

A suppressed whimper got through her barriers, leaving Harm to watch helplessly as she fought for control. A brief war raged within him, the awkwardness at having to deal with a crying female, that still persisted even with the number of times he'd dealt with exactly this in his life and how old he was, battling with his instinct to protect and comfort. Doing the only thing he was capable of, he squashed his reservations and approached the suffering girl. Laying a supportive hand on her shoulder that for the first time in almost two years felt frail, he squeezed once gently, letting her know she wasn't alone, he was there. Her hand came up, covered his and returned his squeeze with one of gratitude.

Deciding it was time he got the whole story directly from the source, Claire took a deep breath, collected her composure and plunged into her narration "I was attending the University when we got news that a couple of UNITA bands crossed the border and were pillaging the secluded farms and homes. I got on the first bus home and when I arrived the house was empty. I could see people have gone through it, yet nothing was missing, expect for Mum and Dad. Then I came out here and I found them, under this tree. They were..."

Another sob swallowed her words, but by now Harm could no longer just helplessly stand by as she tortured herself with the horrible memories and got down on his knees, taking his young friend into his arms. He held her small frame against his body as she cried, just rocking slightly, one large hand gliding comfortingly up and down her back as he made soothing sounds. A while later she pulled herself together and withdrew, wiping the tears from her eyes.

Seeing what she was about to do Harm lowered his head to meet her eyes, even though she was trying to evade his, and shook his head "You don't have to, Claire."

Her blues were as dark as a storm on the high seas, drops of salty water clinging to her lashes as she denied "You're wrong. I _do_ have to. I haven't told this to anyone, but I need you to know."

Heaving a sad sigh, Harm aquiesced and pulled her back into his chest, listening carefully as she narrated her story, feeling her chest vibrate against his as she whispered into his shirt.

"The house was intact, nothing had been stolen. They didn't want anything, their only desire was to inflict suffering and death. They... tortured them. Before they killed them. I called the police and they came, but these people who killed my parents and many others as I later found out were already gone back over the border. The police brought the coroner with them to file out the death certificate. I didn't let them take them and then... Then I buried my parents. I buried my parents with my own hands beneath the tree they loved so much." she finished with a dead voice and Harm felt his heart rip wide open as he wished desperately for some way to undo everything.

Ever since he'd met her there had always been sadness floating over this vibrant young woman, an invisible weight pushing down on her young shoulders. Since he never got to meet her family, nor did she ever talk of them he'd immediately suspected something tragic. He'd never asked what had happened to them, feeling it wasn't his place to push, especially since he was hiding things he didn't want to be pushed on himself, she would've told him had she wanted him to know. And she apparently did want him to know.

"For a long time after that I wanted to join them, but didn't get up the courage to do it. I still don't know how I got through that period, but I returned to the University, eventually graduated and was lucky enough to get the job near my home. There were too many good memories tying me to this house to sell it and move away. This is where I was born, where I grew up, this is where my parents lived and loved. This is my home. Then one day an abandoned, skeleton-like pup appeared on my door and gave me a reason to live again. Poor Uncle Titus, he was going crazy with worry over me. When I came to him and asked him if he could use a volunteer I swear he almost cried from relief. But it still hurts like it did that first day."

Pleading blues looked up into his, begging him to tell her it'll get better "Does the pain ever go away? Will it get better?"

Harm's heart broke as he knew what he would say wouldn't help, but unable to tell her anything but the truth. Pulling her back into him he embraced her tightly, propping his chin on the top of her head as she turned it so her ear was over his heart, listening to it's beat. Feeling his chest rumble soothingly as he talked in that low, smooth voice of his.

"When I was 6 I lost my father, he was shot down over Vietnam in '69. I was too young too really comprehend what happened beyond the fact he wasn't coming back, but when I understood... There's nothing I would more love to say to you than that the pain goes away, but the last thing I'll ever do is lie to you. It hurts like fresh for quite a while, but time eventually dulls it a little. You _never_ get over losing a loved one, but eventually you start functioning semi-normally again. From time to time it will hit you again, but these intervals become longer. You never forget though. It's what you do with the pain and the memories that matters. Do you let them consume you or do you use them to give you strength. There's nothing wrong with going on with life, honey, it's natural, expected and _healthy_ and what your parents would want you to do."

Claire was silent for a couple of minutes as she mulled his words then asked in an equally low voice "Did you ever find out what happened to your father?"

His chest inflated heavily, dislodging her ear from it's spot for a second "Yes and I'm not ashamed to admit I cried, standing over his grave. Or the best approximate of it. But it took me 30 years, including one really bad trip to Vietnam when I was 15."

"Thank you, Harm. For being here... for sharing about your Dad... you didn't have to."

"Yes, I did." Harm disagreed gently.

Claire nodded in understanding and settled back. It was a while before either of them spoke again, both revelling in finally getting the emotional support and understanding they'd been so starved of for so long, since neither of them had ever been brave enough or even known how to ask for it. But when they'd met it had just clicked, they didn't need to ask because the other person was so alike they could almost read their mind.

"Why _are_ you here anyway?" Claire finally realized he had to have a reason to be there as they hadn't made any plans. She straightened, feeling Harm's arms drop from around her and his body move away as he felt her emotional strength return, subtly shivering at the cold of physical abandonment that immediately assailed her, even though it was over 30'C even in the baobab's shadow.

Ignoring that feeling she wiped away the dried tears, grateful for the distraction "Not that I don't appreciate what you just did here, but..."

"It's a surprise." Harm cut her off, grinning and got to his feet, though with groan and slower than he would've 10 years ago.

Once up he took her hand in his and dragged her up "Come on!"

Claire allowed him to drag her by the hand to his vehicle, amused by his enthusiasm. Once there he let her go to open the back door of the Land Cruiser 70 Series, revealing something covered with a dirty, oil-smudged cloth. Grabbing that cloth he swiped it away with a silent, but heard, _Ta-da! _to reveal a remotely rectangular mechanical part.

"What is it?" Claire asked cautiously, but from the way Harm was acting it had to be something important.

"It's a replacement gearbox for your Land Rover." Harm explained proudly, observing as confusion was washed from his young friend's features.

Seeing the pure delight temporarily chase away the sorrow from those azure orbs was more rewarding than catching the number 3 wire 5 times in succession during a stormy night and re-qualifying at the top of the board.

"What... How?" she could only stammer, too surprised to form proper sentences.

"I know a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy..." Harm answered proudly, but vaguely "This is an ex-British Army gearbox that stayed behind with all the other equipment that the BA gave over to the new owners. I owe the guy a favor now, but it was well worth it. Mind you, it's not new, but I took it apart and it's in excellent condition, ready to be installed in your LR. With it your Landy will continue to serve you for a long time to come."

"Wow..." then the reality of what he'd done caught up with her and she sombered "Harm I can't... This is lovely and I can't express how... it's just, I can't accept this... it's too much... I can't ever repay you."

"Yes, you can." Harm disagreed.

"How?" Claire inquired eagerly and Harm suppressed a smile of delight at seeing how thrilled she was over his gift.

"Well... It's been a while since I've had your excellent vegetarian shepherd's pie and roly poly pudding. Also I... well, I've been a little careless out in the bush..."

Reaching into the back seat of the Toyota Harm pulled out a duffle bag. Seeing it Claire burst into guffaws, impulsively reaching up to wrap her arms around his nick and press a kiss on his stubbly cheek.

It was over before he could react, leaving him standing dazed yet again as Claire snatched up the duffle and disappeared inside the cool interior of her house.

Staring after her he couldn't help but muse on how different his new life was from his old one, just like his friends.

What he'd "asked" in return would've sent 3/4 of the women he'd known back home into a feminist indignation fueled rage. With only about a quarter not being offended by something as innocent as that made it clear that in his previous life he'd looked among the wrong segment of female population (which he was now sure was the minority of women) for companionship. Had he implied to Bobbie Latham that the only way she could thank him was with cooking and sewing she would've probably castrated him, shoved it down his throat, burned his body and then forced out a Congress investigation into sexism in the military which would've ended up with hundreds of innocent male officers as victims of her witch hunt. Had she been around back then, then Tailhook would've probably ended even worse than it already had.

On top of that, had he given Mac or any other female friend in the US a gearbox for her car as a gift her reaction would've been far from Claire's, stupefaction and uncertainty being the most probable. No doubt among Mac's responses would've been her by-now-tradermark _I'm a marine, I don't need your help!_ on which he was willing to bet his last shirt. And he only possessed about three shirts or so... Even though he had a LOT less here, he was happier than he'd ever been.

Then again, his circumstances were now different, he lived in another country on another continent and led a life so far removed from his old one there were no references. Yet the most important fact is that it was this difference that was the reason he'd chosen Namibia and Africa over returning to DC.

"DC", not _home_.

Funny thing, he'd stopped thinking of DC as home long ago if he ever had in the first place. Even before the whole mess with Singer's murder it hadn't been the same as it once had. As much as working at the HQ was a cushy and covetted billet he knew he should've been rotated out a long time ago. Everyone at the HQ had become too complacent with their jobs and with the people they'd worked with that they eventually took each other's presence in their lives for granted. Which had not only led to unrealistic expectations, but also to losing much of the appreciation for their friends.

Not to mention that being sent to different parts of the world would've shoved he and Mac out of the rut they'd been stuck in for well over 5 years. It would've forced them to make a decision, something they'd both avoided for too long. On the other hand that was a good thing because as it turned out their plentiful differences would've spelled death for any romantic relationship between them and thus they'd at least avoided a messy divorce. And with how spiteful and vengeful Mac could be, that divorce would've no doubt been gory.

Once he'd believed they were friends wanting to be lovers. Then he'd thought they were people in love, trying to be friends.

But now he knew they'd been coworkers who'd mistakenly believed they were friends who foolishly wanted to be lovers, convinced they'd been meant for that relationship by Fates themselves.

With a new life also come new friends, again different from his former ones. A lot more down to Earth, but no less precious and no less intelligent, quite probably more so. And far more genuine and honest. Whereas in DC advancing one's career was the main agenda, something that many wouldn't even hesitate stabbing someone in the back for or even sacrifice their own parents, and the people he'd been in constant contact with, even he himself, office worms.

Unlike Namibia.

Nobody he knew spent more time at work or doing paperwork than absolutely necessary, they went home as soon as they could - contrary to him and his former circles these friends had lives, their concerns were also more grounded and in many ways more selfless.

There was also a very strong feeling of community among people here that was sadly absent in DC where in many cases neighbors didn't even know each other; they held together and helped each other. Entire families with all their belongings put together owned less and survived on less than a stereotypical US teenager, yet they warmly shared their few possessions, their home and their food with those in need.

Instead of crawling over bodies for the next promotion his new friends fought to preserve and protect the dwindling nature and wildlife, endangered or not; just as they helped the future generations grow into responsible and educated-as-much-as-possible adults.

His friends had no problem getting literally dirty or sweaty; and his youngish female friends didn't spend the majority of their paychecks on products that gave empty promises of eternal beauty and youth and femininity. Here usefulness was the key and a gift that was useful was far more valued than any bling, no matter how shiny it was.

Having finished loading the spare part into Claire's Landy, Harm stretched out his back and arms, looking forward to an evening spent in delightful company.

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	10. Chapter 10

Thank you for reading and reviewing! :)

"Harm?"

"Hm?" he responded absently as he enjoyed his last cigar, with bemusement observing the Boerboel gnawing, slobbering, on the toy he'd given her. The stupefied look when presented with a gift from HIM would provide ammo for chuckling for weeks to come. Apparently with that one move he'd erased her grudges against him, temporarily at least, since she was letting him enjoy Claire's company without any dirty looks. .

After he finished this cigar, he'd decided, he would be quitting, for good. The diminished oxygen supply that made itself noticed in his new physically intense work (not to mention the threat of lung cancer) was no longer worth the indulgence. He was now mature enough to realize just what a bad and harmful (no pun intended) habit smoking was. But for now he'd enjoy his last smoke, the warmth and peacefulness of the Namibian dusk and the company...

"Why have you never married?"

...who had just stepped on the figurative landmine.

"What?" Harm started, not having expected the question, turning from observing the disappearing bush beyond the veranda, not porch, to the young woman sitting nearby under the small, but powerful lamp "Why haven't I married?"

"Yes." Claire paused in her work to peer at him.

He'd told her it could wait until the next day, no sense ruining her eyes for something stupid as that, but Claire had insisted the 100 Watt bulb in it's directed-beam housing was strong enough so she wouldn't need to strain her eyes. Besides, she'd said, there was only one shirt and one pair of pants to mend, she'd be done soon enough.

"How quickly are good deeds forgotten. Only a shirt and she already wishes someone else would do the work instead of her." Harm joked, stalling in an effort to buy some time.

"I already spilled my secrets today, so now it's your turn."

The quickness and cheekiness of her reply told him she'd had it prepared, which meant it wasn't an impulsive question.

Oh well, she was his friend, she'd revealed a lot of her life to him, so it was time he divulged some of his hidden parts as well. They already knew pretty much everything else about each other and it wasn't like he had something against her knowing. When he'd moved here nobody pressured him into telling his life story and later he just pushed it out of his mind, going on with his new life and ignoring his old one.

Still, it was not the right time for going into the entire Diane's murder mess, that would be left for later, much later. Averting his gaze to his cigar he started tentatively.

"There was someone once that meant a lot to me, but... I thought I had all the time in the world. She was my partner for a year and got transferred out before I could get my six in gear. Then I was assigned a new partner, with whom I eventually got caught up in a limbo that lasted for years and destroyed every relationship I had or hoped to have during that time. It took Mac delivering the kill shot to whatever we had for me to realize we were wrong from the start, that it was better nothing ever happened."

To his surprise he caught the brief flash of anger at his mention of the other woman's name. He expected her to say something about the woman who'd come there to again demolish his life, but was surprised when she skillfully directed the topic away.

"Partner?"

"At JAG - the Judge Advocate General Corps. I was an attorney. A barrister-solicitor to you, my imperialistic friend." Harm joked, laughing outloud when Claire poked her tongue out at him.

"Hey, hey, hey! Lay off the insults!" she grinned, eyes sparkling "I knew you were an attorney, just didn't know you had partners assigned. Besides, look who's accusing whom of imperialism - we only have an island and you want the entire world!"

Then she corrected with a comical expression and a horribly exaggerated accent "I say, my dear Colonial chap, need I remind you my family has been living in Africa for over 100 years? I was born here and I'll die here. I'm just as much British as your great-grandchildren will be American if you remain."

The next second Claire wanted to hit herself for pointing the big, neon sign with flashing multi-colour lights at the huge pink elephant in the room.

There was no-one else more aware of the fact than she was that Harm was yet to give any indication his stay in Africa was anything but temporary. For all she knew he'd be staying only until he got his feet back under him and then he'd be moving back to the US. Heck, he was maybe staying for only one more week before going back. Her remaining time with him was no doubt numbered.

She was also all too aware of how attached she'd become to him in this short amount of time they'd been part of each other's lives. Thus the last thing she wanted was thinking about him leaving, especially since they'd been having such an enjoyable evening.

"True." Harm agreed amicably, intentionally ignoring the unintended implications he'd sensed, then sent her a questioning look "Die here? You don't want to go out and see the world?"

"Oh, I wouldn't mind seeing some of it." she agreed readily as she resumed her work "But I wouldn't want to live there."

"Not even in the US?" he continued, unsure why he wanted to know.

"Not even there. While there are no doubt a few amazing people there, the ones that haven't escaped yet, that is," she smirked mischeviously at him "I don't think I would like the culture or the crime rate from what I've read and found out from people who lived there. Mind you, I wouldn't want to live in the UK either, it's too restricted. Did you know the British are probably the most monitored nation in the West if not the world? There are more public-places government-run surveillance cameras per citizen than anywhere else."

"Didn't know that." Harm responded, looking at his friend in wonder.

"I'm happy here, I love my life and I love Africa. Even with all it's faults and problems you're still more free and safer here than anywhere in the West. There are no cameras, no secret agencies, no secret police, no consumerism, no anything breathing down your neck. The pace of life is slower, more relaxed and people-friendly, at least in Namibia. Besides, the number of Westerners escaping their countries to start anew in Africa has to mean something. Yes, it can be quite dangerous to live here at times, but proportionally more people are killed in the US, both through violence or in traffic accidents. Other pros outweigh the cons. Further, there's the weather, the nature and the environment, especially in the Kalahari, that make up for the cons, I can think of only few other places in the world as beautiful and even as varied as Africa. Life here may be more modest, we have a lot less, but true happiness and inner peace is not dependent of material possessions."

"You've got me there." Harm had no choice but to agree.

Not simply because of all the cases he'd personally seen during his time in Namibia, but also because he himself was proof of her words. In DC he'd had so much stuff it had taken his mother and his only real remaining friend there, Coates, the better part of a week to sort it out and pack up to either be gifted to charity, sold or put in storage (only about a box or two). The apartment had then been sold. Frank had further sold the Lexus in his stead and put the Corvette and Sarah in storage. With a few determined moves Harm had completely severed his former life in the US

If he decided to stay in Africa he would further have Frank sell the 'Vette as well as he would no longer need it. He wasn't sure what to do with Sarah in that case though. While he could use her in his job here as it would make control of the park easier, the old plane was more maintenance costly and demanding than the better alternative, a Microlight, plus getting her over the Atlantic would've cost a fortune. True, with the money from the apartment and the cars he could easily afford the costs, but the question was, was it even sensible to bring the plane over here. Plus, there were no spare parts to find locally, Stearman airplanes never really caught on in Africa and shipping from US to Africa was problematic.

The money that he had in the bank in the US was as good as inexistent - he didn't use it or had plans to use it anytime soon, nor even the need to use it anyhow, thus for him it didn't really exist. The only thing he really had were his hat, three shirts, three pairs of cargo shorts, two pairs of long cargo pants, underwear for a week, even fewer socks, a single pair of boots and some toiletries. He didn't even own a car here since he had no absolute need for one, something that had taken him a while and an attitude adjustment - actually more like rooting-out the way he'd been raised and indoctrinated by the society he'd lived most of his life in, to get used to.

And he was happy.

x

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	11. Chapter 11

Thank you for reading and reviewing! :)

Not that he needed a car, but it was just further proof to his belief that to achieve this state, the amount of worldly possessions does not matter. He'd long ago noticed that it was people who had the most (if not outright everything) that were unhappy. The more they had, the more they wanted and there was no limit to that, they were never satisfied. Their greed was endless.

Having too little to survive or to pay the bills and get through the month with an occasional life-enrichening experience was not an acceptable option either.

The problem is that the world's wealth and resources are quite unfairly and unevenly distributed, 1 percent of the world's population hords more money than the rest 99 percent put together. And they want even more, they're not satisfied with even that, they're willing to walk over bodies of millions to have more.

All too aware they were treading into heavy territory Claire changed topics, unknowingly jumping from the frying pan into the fire "I always wondered about that... you were a pilot and an attorney. How did it work?"

"Barely." Harm admitted, smiling self-consciously "There were a couple of times it almost didn't. As you already know my father was a pilot, his father as well. Since I can remember I could never imagine anything but following in his footsteps. With a lot of hard work and dedication I achieved my dream, but had an accident several years later that forced me to choose a different career. A friend from the Academy gave me the idea to study law. Eventually I became a JAG. Then years later, it was realised the cause of my accident could be fixed, it would take only a couple of minutes under the laser to fix my eyes. I had the operation done and went back to flying. But because I was away from that for too long I couldn't stay and had to go back to JAG. Then I chose to re-qualify every six months to keep my flight status, which is where the complications come in."

"An accident?" Claire asked hesitantly, instinctively knowing it was a touchy subject and sincerely hoping their friendship was strong enough for her to have the right to prod into that wound "What happened?"

Harm sighed heavily, his eyes growing sad and dark before he lowered them and began lowly "I flew fighter jets off aircraft carriers. One night, on final approach to landing I suddenly lost all vision and hit the flight deck. The impact killed my RIO who ejected us too soon. While I was recovering I was disagnosed with night blindness and grounded. Eight years later I went to the doctor because of some eyesight problems and she discovered I didn't have nightblindness, but scarring because of an illness I had days before the crash. She offered me a chance to have it fixed. Then I went back to flying, something I had to pay for more than I ever expected, until I was told I had to leave it if I wanted to stay in the Navy because I didn't have enough flying hours to pass the next fitness report as a pilot. I went back to JAG and stayed there until I resigned. I still flew whenever I could and kept myself qualified."

Claire dropped it at that, knowing he'd say more about his resignation if he was ready to share. She also had a pretty good feeling there was a lot being left out in general, both because there was not enough time to tell everything and because it was still too painful. The hurt in his voice when he told her about leaving flying and what it cost him, was what had her put the needle and his shirt down and reach over the gap between them to put her hand on his in comfort.

"_We_ are grateful to have you here." she said softly, subtly letting him know he was now among real friends who wouldn't hold following his heart against him.

Harm put his other hand on his and squeezed slightly, then rubbed the back of hers with his thumb, smiling at his young friend gratefully. He knew she'd understood way more than he'd actually said, but was not pushing him for more before he was ready. It was most definitely a refreshing change from his previous life.

"And I'm glad to have you." Harm replied once he could speak past the lump in his throat, too late realizing how it could be taken.

While he'd meant to say he was happy to have _them all_ for his friends, the possible implication his words were he was speaking only of Claire and with a meaning of more than friendship. After a moment's deliberation he chose against restating it. Doing that would only bring more attention to his slip and his eagerness to take it back would probably hurt Claire, besides to making a passable situation into uncomfortable.

Wanting to dispel the emotional atmosphere Harm retracted his appendages and cleared his throat.

"You know, I actually decided to come to Africa on a moment's decision?"

"Really?" echoed Claire interested. She'd come to know a lot about the man sitting opposite her, but somehow they'd never gotten around to talking about what gave him idea to choose Africa above others.

"I was at loose ends, somewhere in South America and didn't really feel like going back to the States when I saw a report on poaching and ivory trade. In the days before that I almost died more times than I wanted to count and it forced me to take a look at my life. With the Navy I was starting to feel that no matter what I did it didn't change anything. I was fed up with that, I always wanted to make a difference, to help. But everything I did always seemed like pouring water into a bottomless barrel. Then I saw the report and it sickened me what was being done to these magnificent animals. It was there and then I decided to help, to do something about it. I had nothing holding me back, no ties to keep me in the States, so I took the first plane out and 4 days later I was sitting in Titus' office, trying to convince him to give me a shot. And that was that."

"What were you doing in South America that you had to resign for?"

"THAT is a loaded question that I'll answer some other time when we have more... time. It's not as simple as it appears on first glance, I would have to start the story many years ago and it's too nice an evening to spoil it with going back into that, not so pleasant, past."

"I'll hold you to that. The fact I never asked doesn't mean I never wanted to know."

"I know." Harm smiled "I can't tell you how pleasantly your and Titus' willingness not to drill surprised me. In my old life everyone believed they had every right to know everything about me and my life, even if I didn't want them to. And when I kept something from them even temporarily, they held that against me as if I wronged them."

"Friends like that are not real friends." Claire remarked, stiffling her anger at the people who'd claimed they were his friends, but had been far from it "A real friend will want only the best for you, no matter what their plans are."

"True." Harm nodded, sitting back in his char and taking a puff again "Anyway, I hope that answered your question."

"It more than did." Claire exhaled, nibbling her lower lip pensively "And I'm sorry for asking, I wouldn't have if I had any idea it was like this."

"Claire, you have nothing to apologize for." Harm dismissed "I should've told this a long time ago, I don't even know now why I kept it to myself as it's nothing special."

Then his aquamarines turned mischevious, sparkling with the inner Devil "Now, Miss Chingford, I've spilled all the gory details of my life, the turn is on you. Just how many hearts have been broken in Namibia?"

The words that would've been harsh and insulting coming from anyone else were softened by the fact it was Harm, her closest friend who'd never hurt her, asking and by the teasing curve of his lips.

"I hate to disappoint you, Mister Rabb, but my list is nowhere near as long and distinguished as yours, there are no would-be lovers hounding me." she responded primly, spoiling it with poking her tongue out at him, causing him to chuckle.

"I... well..." her good mood plummeted, forming a granite ball in Harm's stomach "When my parents... I was starting to see someone at the University, we went on a couple of dates. No further than a couple of meals, I'm not even sure anymore we kissed. I've already told you about the self-destructive path I took... Well, it entailed pushing everyone away, including him. Eventually I succeeded and last I heard he got married."

Well, he'd done it again. Trying to uplift the mood he'd just sent it back down again. To say he was sorry he was the cause for her sadness was an understatement. Reaching out over the table between them Harm gently took her hand in his, this gesture bringing her large eyes up to lock with his. The moment quickly grew in intensity as they continued to stare at each other, past the point Harm felt comfortable with.

"We really are a couple of wet blankets." he smiled gently, but Claire still heard through the words to his guilt and self-recrimination and rolled her eyes at him, making sure he saw the gesture.

Seeing him grin abashedly she sighed, gracing him with a glare "It's not your fault, Harmon Rabb, don't you dare even think that! You couldn't know!"

"But I..."

"No buts." Claire interrupted him hotly, shaking off the sadness in the face of her frustration with his eager willingness to shoulder every piece of blame in the world "Tell me this: if you knew, would've you still asked?"

"Of course not!" Harm felt slightly hurt at the question, but that disappeared when Claire sat back with a satisfied expression and a huff of "Exactly my point!"

Realization he'd just been handled, and exactly how well, was fast to hit, leaving him with sighing as the only thing he could do "One of these days, Claire, one of these days..."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, we already discussed that today. I'm still waiting on you to deliver."

"Everything comes to those who wait, young Grasshopper."

Claire's expression told him exactly what she thought of his promise, but Harm was still delighted to see the darkness gone again.

x

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	12. Chapter 12

Huge thanks to **Saissa, jpstar57, byrhthelm, carolfd, Can Sheshe **and **Michi uk.**

Can Sheshe: since I can't reach you over PM like the others, I'll take this chance to thank you for reading and reviewing my stories. Hopefully future chapters and fics justify your trust. :)

Harm hadn't been back to his room for even a minute when the knock he'd been expecting sounded from his door.

"Come in!" he called out, shaking the bed sheet for any hidden companions, then turned when he heard the door click shut.

Tilting his head, Harm searched the other man's somber face as Titus leaned against the desk by the door, obviously deep in thought. He waited mutely until Titus launched in without preamble, raising his eyes to meet those of his American friend.

"How is she?" he asked, soft concern in his voice. There was only one person he could mean.

"As well as can be expected." Harm answered with a loud sigh as he collapsed on his bed, cupping the back of his head in his palms, and saw through his lashes Titus nod in affirmative.

"Why didn't you go see for yourself?" was the question that'd been nagging him for hours.

The bespectacled man shrugged "I didn't have to. You were going. With you there she wouldn't need me."

"It's not like that between us, Titus." Harm shook his head, wondering how could the other man come to such a conclusion.

"I know it's not, Harm." Titus sighed, rubbing the back of his neck tiredly "Look, I've known Claire her entire life. I was keeping Richard distracted in the backyard while Margaret was giving birth to Claire in their bedroom. The strength and depth of your friendship is obvious to everyone."

Harm smiled softly "Claire is a wonderful person and easy to be friends with. Her parents did a great job raising her into the woman she is now."

"Yes, they did and you two clicked better than I ever saw her click with someone. Certainly didn't expect this when I introduced you in the cantina. When my time comes I'll go with an easier heart knowing she'll have someone there for her."

"Don't talk like that, Titus!" Harm frowned at the dark mood of the speaker, forcefully keeping away the thought of life after the other man's death "Just start running in the morning with me and..."

"You're in an awful hurry to get rid of me, aren't you?" Titus interrupted, looking amused.

Scowling heavily, Harm let him know _he_ was far from amused, but dropped it nonetheless. In favor of grilling.

"Why didn't you tell me last year? I could've been there for her then too." Harm asked, trying to keep the accusatory tone out of his words as he stared at the other man.

Titus snorted derisively, expression darkening "If you'll think back, 365 days ago you were hanging on to your life by a thread because of that scuffle with those mercenaries. You weren't in any state to be there for her. In fact, _I_ had to be there for her because of _you_ as well."

"Oh." Harm muttered, he'd honestly completely forgotten that.

He actually remembered very little of that whole affair, only pain and confusion after being hit. Then it got blurry. Those UNITA mercs had taught him a memorable lesson of just how complacent he'd gotten chasing poachers, untrained in military arts. The mercs had once been Western soldiers themselves and had provided a nasty surprise for the small force pursuing them. A surprise that had cost several lives, among them almost Harm's own.

"She was there, you know. By your bedside, day and night, when they weren't sure you were going to make it." Titus announced suddenly, surprising Harm "Wouldn't leave until she was assured you'd really be alright and only then because I insisted she take care of herself too."

"Claire's a dying breed. They don't make women like her anymore." Harm agreed thoughtfully, his mind with his young friend.

"Damn right they don't!" Titus swore, shocking Harm who'd never heard him utter a curse "So, maybe you _were_ helping her to keep her mind off her parents. Not successfully, though, since she was now worried about you and you dying."

Harm closed his eyes, admonished "Look, I had to help, they were threatening innocents..."

"No, don't." his boss cut him off "I'm not your mother or your wife, your life is your own, you live it as you see fit. I'm only saying: you were lucky this time and from what I gather you've had plenty of narrow escapes even before you came to Africa, so as your friend I'm only giving you food for thought: every string of good luck runs out eventually. And there is someone we both know who wouldn't get over your death so easily, if at all. Not with everything else she's gone through already... It's Niki and you keeping her above the water since her parents' deaths, so more depends on your continuing existence than you think."

"I understand what you mean, but not what you're saying. Should I stop doing what I'm doing? My job and what I love?"

"No. No, I'm not. Not just because we need you, but mainly because I see it has become your calling. I'm merely suggesting you start being more careful, take less risks than you have."

Titus paused, needing to take a breath before he could continue. He hated revealing these private parts about his god-daughter without her permission, but he was fighting for her well-being here.

"Otherwise you risk breaking her heart and cause even more days of her doing nothing but cry every year. Sad fact is, you can't solve all of Africa's or even the world's problems, Harm, they'll be here long after we're all dead. You can either do what you can and make sure you have a life aside it, or concentrate only on the fight and eventually get killed in the process. Yes, the friendship you share with Claire does come with strings... the reason you found out today. After her parents died she cut herself off from everyone and if she's letting you into that last bastion, it's the first time she's done that since that horrific day. That makes her even more vulnerable and more dependent on you and if you die or get seriously hurt, it WILL affect her personally. BUT, if you ask me, her friendship is worth a few strings. Then again I'm her godfather so I'm biased..."

His gaze growing sharp, Titus continued "OR you can decide to continue living your way..."

"How?" Harm asked hesitantly, Titus' tone making him wary.

"Put distance between you two, if it isn't already too late. Frankly, I don't like this option because it insures Claire will get hurt to some extent, but at least not as much as she would later down the road if you got killed in one of those skirmishes you help the military on."

"That would hurt her." Harm agreed softly, feeling sick at the sole idea of inflicting pain on his dear friend. Titus nodded, sighing.

"Claire's got a lot of friends, everyone loves her, but while she returns their friendship she's also safe behind a wall she doesn't let any of them over. When it comes down to it, Niki, you and I are the only ones she needs, we're the only ones to have been granted entrance. She took a great risk on you and if something happens to you, she'll never let any other person in again. It may sound preposterous, but I'd stake my year's pay on that. I'm old, Harm, and I'll go easier knowing she's got someone, instead of having been left all alone. I'm not talking about anything romantic, just you being there for her and being alive to do it. Think about what I've just said."

Sending the now-silent younger man a parting look, he nodded with satisfaction at seeing his words had gotten through. Then he turned around, left the room and quietly closed the door behind himself.

The light in Harm's room stayed on well into the next morning.

x

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	13. Chapter 13

They couldn't avoid the meeting and they couldn't avoid not saying a last couple of words.

The antipathy they shared for each other was as plain as day and neither tried to hide it.

Titus was the first to speak up, his first word sending Mac's blood-pressure through the roof, achieving something only Harm had been able to until now.

"Miss MacKenzie." Titus nodded in a slightly malicious way, knowing this was it "From your attire I'm assuming you're leaving. Had a pleasant stay?"

She gritted her teeth, the vile little man refused to call her by her well-deserved, if maybe a still too-light, rank.

"Mr Pong." Mac shot back, owing him nothing.

Displeasure from her last conversation with Harm and the fact that she'd come to this stupid, godforsaken land, put up with the humidity and the imbeciles here, was still burning hot, and the temptation to lash out at someone was too sweet to deny.

"Yes, it was quite pleasant, thank you."

Dropping then the false niceties she bored him through with her lasers "Yesterday you told me you didn't know any Harmon Rabb. Yet the truth is quite the opposite. Why did you lie?"

Titus gave thought to his answer as he observed the woman in front of him silently. As a young guy he would've given his right arm and leg to bed her, but as a mature, experienced man he knew all too well that this type meant only trouble, a LOT of trouble. Completely unnecessary trouble.

"The answer is pretty much the same I gave you yesterday," he finally spoke slowly, with emphasis "white people usually move to Africa for only one reason, to start a new life, unburdened from their old one. Some of them are on the run from the law, but most of them are good people who've reached the breaking point and need to get away so they can start anew. And then there are those who come here just wanting to make a difference, whom the Western civilization makes feel as just one unappreciated worker-ant among billions that corporations and business regard and treat only as slaves, tools for profit, or next victim to exploit.

"As for Harm... well, it was pretty obvious right from the start that he's a good man and that when he said he wanted to help, it was also apparent that his intimate knowledge of weapons and fighting wasn't a red flag, like it usually is. It didn't take us long to figure out his leaving the US had something to do with a woman, not that he ever talked about it. It's the usual reason with guys like him, who feel too deeply and are unfortunately easily wounded."

Mac snorted at that, making Titus pause as he suppressed a grimace of disgust and a sigh, then continued, trying to ignore his dislike for this pompous, self-righteous and selfish woman.

"He quickly made many friends and I'm lucky enough to count myself among them. But, now, having met you... it's obvious to me, to everyone here, just _who_ that bitter experience was. Protecting your friends from hurt and from people who'd try to hurt them comes with the job description, something I'm sadly sure is news to you.

"One day, Miss MacKenzie, you will maybe learn you can not indefinitely push people away and abuse them and expect them to come running as soon as you crook your finger at them. People are not dogs. For your sake I hope you learn that before it's too late. So, excuse me for not shaking your hand and I hope your stay here is over, indeed. I do however wish you a pleasant flight home and if you ever return to Africa, that it's for a completely different reason, not having anything to do with Harm. Good day."

With that the tubby man walked off, leaving Mac steaming in his dust.

_' Just who the hell does he think he is? '_ she thought angrily _' I'll show him who he talked like that to... I'll...'_

She stopped there, only now realizing she could do jack shit. She was in a foreign country, where they played by their own rules and definitely not her rules and as a complete foreigner she had no chance in hell of starting something, much less make anyone pay. If she started anything against anyone here, chances were the only person landing in a prison cell would be she and from what she'd heard of Africa, a prison cell is the last place for a Westerner.

"You again?" she heard an exasperated groan from behind.

Whirling around she came face to face with Harm who looked less than pleased to see her. He was also disgruntled that with his automatic exclamation he'd given away his presence when he could've just quietly slipped by and then avoided her. In some hidden, dark, remote corner of her heart she remembered back when things had been different, so long ago.

"Haven't you left already?" he demanded, the annoyance in his voice as clear as on his face. If Mac's hackles hadn't been raised from her conversation with his boss, they would've been now.

"No, I haven't. I know you didn't mean everything you've said since I came here, so I'm willing to forgive and forget and offer you one last chance." she offered magnamiously.

"Say yes and all this..." she waved around in clear disdain "will be just a bad dream."

Harm stared at her stupefied for about 10 seconds, before shaking his head in disbelief. It took him a few tries, but finally he found his voice, tinged with incredulity "YOU, forgive and forget? You've never been willing to do either when it comes to me, you're holding my going back to flying against me even now, over 5 years later."

Taking a breath to calm himself down he continued with a steadier voice "Ignoring that, I meant what I said to you. I'm not going back, Mac. I don't want anything to do with the Navy, JAG, Chegwidden or you. THIS is my life now and maybe it looks like a nightmare to you, but to me it's a good life, a meangful life, where I'm doing something I actually enjoy."

Harm's voice grew passionate, his eyes shining like they hadn't in a long time, certainly not since before LT Singer's murder "Mac, for the first time in my life, I'm actually making a difference."

A derisive snort with a _"What? Protecting some big, dumb animals that would look better on my bracelet than wasting air and water?" _comment was on the tip of her tongue, but for once Mac held her tongue.

"How can what you're doing here ever be more important to you than the Navy?" she demanded instead.

"I'd never thought it possible, but it is. With the Navy I either destroyed personally as a pilot or as a lawyer helped to destroy by insuring the Navy continued to work efficiently. You saw yourself all the bombed houses and graves of civilians, non-combatants, who died in their homes in Afghanistan. Now... here... I'm helping to preserve, save. For once in my life my job is truly constructive, instead of destructive. If I have my way, the future generations will have the chance to cherish and admire this nature and these magnificent animals. Have you ever seen an elephant being born, Mac? I have. I saw it with my own two eyes and it's the most wondrous thing you can imagine! I also saw them butchered and it's the most horrible sight. Do you know what the gestation period for elephants is? 22 months! They're being killed faster than they can reproduce and if this goes on they'll soon be extinct, just like whales!"

Mac shuddered at the thought of a 22 month pregnancy, but Harm didn't see it, his mind still back with that day.

"When I saw that calf enter the world I made a promise to myself: I would do my dead level best to insure my children and my children's children and so on would have the chance to see it happen in the wild instead of only in books, documentaries or in some museum!"

In a last ditch effort she decided to use her sexuality to get her way because she'd be damned if she let him stay here. She needed him in DC, there was too much work to do and with Clay gone so much she was starting to doubt herself. How can a girl continue to feel sexy if there's no-one around to reassure her and she's getting older? Closing the distance between them she placed her hand on his chest, hoping for the contact to work in her favour. Neither of them saw the slim figure, that had tried to catch up with Harm, stop, after a second turn and walk away.

"You sure you don't want to come back with me? I've been missing you, Harm." she purred, slowly playing her fingers down his chest to scratch at the skin beneath the flannel, coyly glancing up at him through her lashes, making sure to inhale as much breath as possible so her breasts strained against the fabric, showing their size "I've been _really_ missing you and I think I made a mistake in Paraguay."

Unfortunately for Mac, the last thing Harm felt was arousal or interest, because the only feeling he was experiencing was disgust. She was involved with Webb, but was still putting moves on him. Yet after her games during her relationships with Lowne and then Brumby he shouldn't have been surprised she'd do the same while involved with the spook. Determinedly he took several steps back to break contact with her and with his physical distance prevent her trying again.

"Last time I checked you were with Webb, Mac." Harm shook his head in disbelief "But that obviously doesn't mean anything to you... you're doing what you always do: not committing, leaving your options open. And then have the gall to call _me_ commitment-phobic. No thanks, Mac. You made your bed, now for once sleep in it."

Mac smirked partly disbelievingly, partly sarcastically and partly patronizingly "Are you trying to throw me into his arms, Harm? Is that really what you want?"

That patronizing look with which she often regarded him, like he was some kind of a retarded kid and she the Prom Queen, had always grated on him and it didn't fail to irritate him now. It's really hard to believe for such a physically beautiful woman to look ugly, but that expression on her face and in her eyes, a mixture of superiority, disdain and haughtiness, remarkably achieved it.

It only confirmed something Harm had been secretly believing after being surrounded by physically attractive women for years: looks alone can not make a person beautiful. Instead, to achieve true beauty, the looks must come in a package with a personality at least as attractive.

It was a theory and belief system that started to take shape when he got to know Bobbie Latham as a person (making him glad Mac had interrupted their romantic dinner and completely spoiled the mood), then began to solidify with revelations of Mac's true colours with the help of her revealed history and continued when Jordan told him she only wanted a lawyer and not a pilot, when Renee wanted an officer in Dress Whites and glinting medals and was finally forged in the fire of Mac's downward spiral that she'd tried to drag him into with her.

No, his vision of true beauty was no longer filled with Mac's picture, but with the picture of a young teacher who'd survived so much in her life and was now giving so much to others.

He diverted his eyes at a point over Mac's shoulder as he tried to keep control of his temper. Nobody had ever been able to rile him up as fast as Mac, they were like fire and petrol.

Finally, when he'd calmed himself down, he sighed in resignation and prepared to deliver the words that he realized were the complete truth.

"Honestly, Mac? I could care less in whose arms you are." he finally replied with astonishingly no fire in his words, only truth and indifference. Which struck her harder than any physical blow.

In all her calculations for manipulating Harm into falling in line with her plans and desires she'd never anticipated this result: indifference. Love is an emotion, pain is an emotion, hate is an emotion; they all mean that that person still feels something for you and you can use it to your gain, THAT YOU HAVE POWER OVER THEM.

But indifference is lack of all emotions, it's when you've lost that person completely, it's when you've lost all influence and power over them. Indifference steps in when you've pushed someone too far, pushed them too far to ever find a way back. It was done.

GAME OVER

The full import of what that meant turned that physical blow into crippling nausea and she was almost sick right there and then.

Harm, ignorant of the battle within her, delivered what he hoped would be the last thing he'd need to say on the matter, ready to close that chapter of his past and get on with his life "And in my opinion, if you're not in his arms already, considering what your relationship is supposed to be - and you should ask yourself what are you then doing with him in the first place, then and I never believed I'd ever say this I really feel sorry for Webb and he deserves better. Goodbye Mac, have a safe flight home."

Looking to the left and searching until he found it Harm called out "Attu! Mbuku!"

"Yes, boss?" the two men came running, coming to attention before their boss.

"Take her to her hotel and wait while she packs. After she checks out drive her to the airport and come back only after she's boarded the first flight out. Make sure she gets on that plane and that the plane takes off with her. And to be safe stop by the entrance checkpoint and make it clear to them her entry rights have been revoked. Permanently. All clear?"

"Yes, boss."

"Good. Thank you, men. Get to it."

Then he finally turned back to Mac who was red in the face from anger and immediately started to protest.

"Now wait a minute, Harm! You can't order me around like one of your goons and expect I'll fall in line and obey! You don't have authority over me! I'm a Colonel in the US Marines and you're... you're... you're just some Game Warden!"

"You don't have a choice, Mac." Harm said gently, but firmly, ignoring the insult "Whether you realise it or not, I do have some authority here and that includes banning you from entering the park. You did what you came here to do and got your answer, there's nothing holding you here anymore. Don't come back. You and the rest of JAG and even the US military are not welcome here. Goodbye, Marine and this time I expect it to be for real."

Baffled, she could only watch as he touched his fingers to the brim of his slouch hat, turned and strode away, disappearing between huts, out of her sight and her life. Unlike the last time when she'd believed she would again have him on her hook, after returning to DC and letting him pout for a couple of weeks, she now knew he was lost to her forever.

It was this bitter realization and defeat that she would have to be facing on that long flight home, _alone_. Not to mention her punishment...

x

Mutely two spouses stood and watched as a sullen Marine slinked into the bullpen, looking as cheerful as a soaked cat. The two observers were still there when she disappeared into their CO's office and re-appeared some time later, after a long rant of yelling from the boss, with her hands so full of folders she couldn't see over them. She vanished into her office with a slam of the door almost violent enough to shatter the glass. Five seconds later the latest Yeoman replacement followed with another stack.

The two spectators then finally looked at each other and in concert slowly made their way to the break room where they could talk in semi-privacy.

"The Commander isn't coming back." remarked the blond woman, unsure how to feel about that, as she started pouring them that vile black concoction.

"Obviously." hummed the man, not hiding his relief "Can't say I'm not glad. I just hope there aren't any repercussions for him. With the way the Admiral's been..."

He stirred his coffee for a while longer, back against the counter, staring sightlessly into nothing before asking absently "What do you think of a vacation in a couple of years, honey?"

"Hopefully we'll have one sooner." joked his wife, but saw her husband didn't even crack a smile "Okay, what do you have in mind?"

"A safari."

"A safari? Why a safari of all things? You know I don't like dust..." then her eyes went wide as she suddenly realized what he meant, a grin working it's way onto her face "Bud? D'you mean...?"

He nodded "I think waiting a couple of years would make it clear we're not there to try to get him to go back. He was after all our friend. After what's happened it is right that it is we who make the first move."

_And apologise._ went unsaid, but not unheard.

x

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	14. Chapter 14

Thank you to all who read and reviewed!

"Wait for me, Niki." Claire instructed to her dog lying in the boot of her Landy. When the Boerboel didn't even raise her head to acknowledge the order, instead just grunted, Claire rolled her eyes and shook her head at her pet's laziness.

Rounding the corner she raised her hand and knocked on the door, trepidation from the scene she'd been a witness to souring her mood.

"Enter!" came the voice from inside and she did so.

To an unwelcome and truthfully not-so-unexpected sight.

"You're leaving?" wide eyes stared at him as he packed his backpack.

"Yeah, in one hour. Wanted to come tell you after I've packed."

"Wh... But... but..." her lower lip trembled, but Harm didn't see it because he was busy with his work. _I can't believe this..._

"How long will you be gone?"

"I don't know, it's hard to tell with these things." Harm shrugged as he finished up.

"Oh." her voice was small and weak and only now Harm realized there was something wrong.

His eyes widened when he saw how distraught she looked. In the time he'd known her he'd only rarely seen this strong, determined young woman look so lost and so small. As with many times with women before he had a feeling he was missing something, something important and it wasn't the first time in his life that he cursed the fact that women and men operate on different wavelengths.

Stopping what he was doing he gave her his full attention "What's wrong?"

She just jerked her head in denial of what Harm didn't know, but to his horror he could see tears start brimming in her bright eyes.

"Claire?"

Observing her carefully he knew the second she made up her mind. Her eyes cleared, her face smoothed out, her lips set in a determined line. She'd made up her mind, but he didn't know on what.

He was quickly clued-in though, when Claire stepped toward him, grabbed him by the lapels to drag him down to her eye-level and pressed her lips to his. Shocked to the core, Harm stood there like a stone, unable to either break away or reciprocate, but there was not enough time anyway as the kiss was over almost as soon as it began. The next thing he saw after he blinked was Claire's back as she ran out of his room.

His brain had frozen solid, no neuron was available to figure out what had happened.

Claire had kissed him.

Why?

What did it mean?

Why now?

That second a visceral knowledge imprinted on his mind: it didn't matter what Claire had done or why, what mattered right then was that he stopped her from leaving because he knew with absolute certainty that if she left, nothing would ever be the same between them again, and not as an improvement. Definitely not an improvement.

Forcing his body into action he dashed through the door that had been left open in Claire's wake, just in time to see the girl herself slam closed the door of her Landy.

He had just enough time to throw himself on the car's bonnet as it's driver had already fired up the engine to drive away. No matter how distraught and upset she was over his reaction or him in general he knew she wouldn't risk hurting him.

"Claire, stop!"

Peering at her through the windshield he was shaken to see those beautiful eyes red, face blotchy as a torrent of tears streaked down newly-pale cheeks.

"Turn the engine off and we'll talk."

"Go away, Harm! Please, let me go." Claire shook her head, eyes pleading with him to just let her get out of this with at least a bit of her dignity in tact.

Sensing her owner's distress and the growing tension, Niki jumped off the bed and rounded the truck, growling.

Harm glared at her, he didn't have the time or the patience to deal with this too.

"You, sit!"

To Claire's immense astonishment Niki immediately obeyed, intimidated, as she whined gently. Harm didn't waste his attention on the animal, though, he turned it immediately back on the young woman sitting in the idling vehicle.

"Now, are you going to turn that engine off or are we going to stay like this for the rest of the day?"

Reluctantly, Claire nonetheless killed the engine.

"What do you want from me?" she cried out, barely holding on to her emotions as she was living her nightmare.

"I want you to tell me what that was all about." her friend stated with conviction as he let go of the hood and straightened out.

"What was what about?" Claire tried to evade, humiliated.

"That kiss back in my room."

No longer could the young woman's broken heart be denied as her agony spilled out in a cry "Why do you want to talk about it? You're leaving with _her_! You're going back to America."

That stopped Harm in his mental tracks.

"What?" his brow furrowed with confusion "I'm leaving with whom?"

Claire glared at him, wiping tears from her eyes "Don't you bloody dare play with me! You know bleedin' well whom I mean."

Harm blinked, in the 18 months he'd known her she'd never used such language, nor in such a heavy accent. Then again, he'd never seen her this upset before... Then it struck him just what she'd said.

"Oh." he stuttered, stupefied. Claire was JEALOUS? Of MAC of all people? What did it mean? Did it mean what he thought it meant? And why would she be? There was nothing to be jealous over...

In that moment Harm rued the fact he was so oblivious and dense when it came to women.

"Where did you get that?"

The question had the opposite effect of the one he wanted as Claire cried harder "You said you're leaving in an hour!"

"Yes, I am, but why would that mean I'm leaving with Mac?" he repeated gently, trying to get to the bottom of this.

"Well, she's come for you and she obviously wants you back. And I saw you two today... the way she touched you and you letting her..."

Aahhhh... NOW the clouds cleared for Harm and he smiled reassuringly as he rounded the car to the driver's door and opened it.

Taking the fair-haired girl by the hand he gently pulled her out to stand before him.

Everything clicked into place. While he would've considered such a reaction overblown in any other case and that woman the hysterical type, he could understand Claire's anxiety. If he had chosen Mac that would mean leaving Namibia and everyone he meant something to. In Claire's case, not only would she know he'd begun a relationship with another woman (in other words, losing him to another woman, possibly forever), but it would also mean losing him for good because he'd be leaving Namibia and moving back to the States. With the heartbreak she had to be experiencing, the fear of abandonment stemming from her parents' deaths, betrayal after she'd let him past her barriers and knowing of his past with Mac, it was no wonder her conviction and belief in him had weakened for a moment to let the doubts take over.

"I didn't let her, Claire, she took that right herself, but I immediately moved away. And about me leaving... it's not what you think, honey. We've received reports about a suspicious group from some villagers. We're heading off in one hour and will be out until we find them, which could take days, that's why I was packing."

Claire froze, then wiped the tears away slowly, her gaze still wary "Really? You're not going back to the States with Mac the SuperMarine?"

Harm let out a laugh of relief "No need to worry, Claire, I'm staying. No Sarah MacKenzie will ever get me to leave this place, much less go back to DC to be their slave."

He grew serious then "Mac's in the past and that's where she'll stay. THIS is now my life, Claire," he stared deeply and meaningfully into her teary gaze, spreading wide his arms to indicate their surroundings "HERE, not in DC. I love what I do here, I've come to love Africa, people here are important to me, I'm even starting to like that beast over there."

Niki perked up at hearing his nickname for her, but opposite to all the other times he'd called her that, she rose, her head down and tail between her legs as she slunk over to him, licking his hand, before laying down in the dirt at his feet.

Harm and Claire both looked at her astonished.

"I dare say the feeling's mutual." Claire smiled tremulously, relieved that the two most important people in her life finally got along.

"So, this is where I went wrong with women..." Harm wondered aloud, observing Niki's change of behaviour towards him ever since he'd snapped at her, been dominating.

Claire evil-eyed him "Don't start getting ideas."

Harm smirked back, eyes twinkling mischeviously, but soon losing when Claire dropped her gaze, unwilling to meet his.

Horrified, now knowing the real situation, she moaned "Oh, god, I made such a complete fool of myself! Can we please forget that ever happened?"

At any other time and with any other woman Harm would've gratefully agreed, but he was sure it was too late for that now "No, I don't think we can, Claire. I know I don't want to. I think I know you well enough to know you wouldn't do something like that unless you really meant it."

Claire fastened her eyes to her fingers as they nervously played with each other. Her inability to meet his gaze confirmed Harm's suspicion. Instead of insulting her by doubting she knew what she was feeling was real he instead asked something he considered more important.

"When?"

She didn't pretend she hadn't understood the question "I don't know, I became aware around the time with that hyena."

"So long?" Harm couldn't keep the wonder and surprise from his voice as Claire referred to an incident 10 months in the past.

He struggled to find something to say for almost a minute, acutely aware of the awkwardness rising exponentially.

Finally the only thing he could say was as he shrugged helplessly

"Why?"

"Why?" Claire repeated dumbfounded.

"Why me?" Harm elaborated, then frowned when Claire looked at him as if he was crazy.

"Why you?'" she repeated slowly, visibly restraining herself from reaching up to feel his temperature.

"You because you're you." she finally snapped, after realizing he really was that clueless "You because of all the things because of which we became and grew as friends. You not because of your strengths or even your weaknesses, but because of both, of the entire package. Even because of this cluelessness that made you ask that stupid question."

"Huh." Harm muttered, his shoulders drooping in confusion.

"Yeah." agreed Claire, then hurried to supply "Look, don't feel obligated just because you know how I feel. I told you because you forced it out of me. We can just leave it like that and go on as if it never happened."

"No woman ever said that to me before." Harm responded in a way that made it look like he was ignoring her words, but Claire quickly realised the opposite "They all wanted me for something I could offer them. Either a man in uniform with shining medals to make them look good, or a lawyer for lover due to prestige, or for money... or even a fallback guy in case they screwed up every other relationship... No woman I've ever been involved with has wanted me for me."

Claire was filled with sorrow and compassion at her tall friend's surprise over her confession and reasons. Harm probably hadn't intended, but not only had he revealed how many mistakes he'd committed in his love life, but also how badly he'd been hurt.

"Harm," she began gently, touching his forearm "I know you weren't ready to hear this and even though you want to talk about it, I can see you're struggling. Go on your mission and take care of yourself, don't let yourself think of anything but the mission. When you're ready to talk you know where to find me, I'm not going anywere."

That seemed to shake Harm out of whatever stupor he'd been in "No! Look, just give me a minute. This was so sudden and I never expected it. I'll try to work it out and you tell me if you understand what I'm trying to say. Okay?"

Claire couldn't resist those beseeching eyes even if she wanted to. They _did_ need to work this out before Harm left because Harm couldn't afford to be distracted while trying to find those pochers. She didn't want him to die and she especially didn't want to be the reason for such a catastrophic occurrence.

"Go for it."

"Okay." Harm did some frantic thinking, trying to pull some coherent thoughts together "All things considered, I assume our age gap doesn't bother you?"

Well, at least he'd managed to put it diplomatically, something he was proud of himself for.

"You would be right." sighing, Claire shrugged and swatted her blonde locks from her eyes, the wind coming to life "I admit, when I first realised it, I felt slightly unsettled. But then I discovered that wasn't my own prejudice, but that of the society I grew up in. That left only the fact that we're both adults and respect each other, nothing else is important."

Harm nodded thoughtfully. While he himself was still dealing with doubts regarding this topic, it was admittedly because of how it concerned his friend and hopeful partner. She was still young, she could have any young man she wanted, a young man without Harm's baggage, with a strong, healthy back and one that wouldn't leave her behind so soon when his number was up. And a young man with a lot safer job than Harm's.

He could try to talk her out of it, but that would be disrepecting her and belittling her feelings. One thing was for certain: Claire wouldn't have acted on them if they weren't genuine and she definitely wouldn't be so at peace with them and herself.

She was so unlike any woman he'd ever been involved with. An incredibly strong person, having survived the slaughter of her family, yet also incredibly sensitive, both in tune with her emotions as well as empathic with others' pain. Her almost childlike capacity for excitement and wonder intervowen with seriousness of a mature adult was just one of the traits of the female Namibian that had fascinated him even during that first brief meeting.

But she was so much younger, despite everything still so youthful that he had forced himself to think of her as only a younger sister, instead of the vibrant, attractive young woman that she was. She also made him feel every single one of his 41 years of age and that wasn't something he'd have an easy time getting over IF he gave her the chance she wanted, no matter how much it baffled him it was he that she desired.

But could he break her heart by rejecting her? He knew all too well that under that tough crust she portrayed to other people hid a gentle, soft soul, who gave her trust only to the person she believed had earned it. But when you earned it and she let you in, she opened herself fully and without reservation. Exposing herself to the possibility of getting hurt deeply. Could he do that to her?

Titus' words from last night came back to him, seeming nearly prophetic now and Harm regretted going to sleep without having come to a decision.

On the other hand, if he decided against hurting her and taking the chance for happiness with the woman who was nearly the embodiment of his perfect partner then he would be staying in Africa for good. He had selfish moments, but even with those he knew he could never bring himself to take Africa from Claire. If she left this place she would die, it was too much a part of her and he frankly couldn't imagine her anywhere but here. Africa was pure and simple. The US? No way. She belonged here.

Claire was Africa. Africa was Claire.

If he chose Claire he also chose Africa for good.

The answer was as plain as day. He'd already said as much to Mac and just a couple of minutes ago to Claire: THIS was now his life. THIS was now his country and THESE were now his people. He was no longer Commander Harmon Rabb Jr, American. He was Harm Rabb, Namibian, in everything but on paper.

That only left what he felt for the girl in front of him.

She was a friend, the best friend he'd had in decades, but could she be a lover? Could he imagine introducing her to people as "Claire, my wife" if he, against all odds, didn't screw up like he'd screwed up every good thing he'd had in his life?

And it wasn't as if he didn't like her... he did like her, a lot. She was smart, strong, selfless, had a big heart and fiercely loyal and protective of people she trusted. He cared about her a lot, she'd become important, essential, to him in this year and a half. But since he'd known she only saw him as a friend and maybe an older brother (just shows how much he'd known) and because he was so much older he hadn't allowed himself to entertain the option of their deepening friendship becoming more than just that.

Maybe he hadn't let himself fall in love with her, but he loved her, liked her, respected her and cherished her. His mother had once told him that the best relationships come from true friendships. He had no doubt that with this basis and his permission to his heart to finally start seeing her as a woman, love wouldn't be far behind.

They would need to go slow though, he wasn't willing to risk using her as a rebound from Mac and he needed to make sure they really had the firmest foundations before they took that irreversible step that would make them lovers.

There was nothing else to do or consider anymore really. Harm turned to the anxiously waiting young woman.

And smiled.

**THE BEGINNING**

_**Reviews are love.**_


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